


More I Cannot Wish You

by adiwriting



Series: My Home [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 57,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiwriting/pseuds/adiwriting
Summary: Moira Queen has only ever wanted the best for Oliver. Felicity Smoak isn’t it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [realityisoverrated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityisoverrated/gifts).



> This started from a prompt for the "Home" verse where somebody wanted to see Oliver telling off Moira for his treatment of Felicity. And I promise it will get to that... it's just morphed into SO much more. 
> 
> This is also a birthday present to my favorite fandom author Realityisoverrated! Thank you for all the wonderful stories you give me each week! I hope you have a wonderful day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place between 1991 and October of 2007. A complete timeline of this series can be found here  
> ([Home Verse Timeline](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13304013))

Moira doesn’t often pick Oliver up from school herself. Typically, she lets their driver, Antoine, go get him. He’s been with the family for years and Oliver practically worships him so Moira always trusts that her sweet boy is in good hands. Besides, Antoine usually takes Oliver to the new playground the city just put up by the bay before coming home so he’s nice and worn out, and less likely to break anything expensive running around the house. 

Today’s different. Robert is in Italy on a business trip — and more than likely screwing his intern — and she has no board meetings to occupy her mind today, so she decides to pick Oliver up herself. They can spend some time in the city together and end the day with a mother/son date at Oliver’s favorite restaurant. 

“Mom!” Oliver says, surprised when he crawls into the back seat of the car and sees her sitting there already. “You’re here!” 

“Yes,” she says with a smile. “I thought we’d spend the afternoon together.” 

“You’re coming to the park with me and Antoine?” he asks, his face full of excitement. 

“Antonie and me,” she correct him. “And no.” 

Oliver’s face falls immediately and he looks out the window sadly. 

“I thought we’d go shopping. You need a new suit for the upcoming children’s hospital gala and then we’ll catch an early dinner at Russo’s.” 

She expects that to cheer him up since he loves going to Russo’s, but it only makes his frown grow deeper. 

“We can’t go to Russo’s anymore,” Oliver says, shrugging off his backpack. “Don’t leave yet, Antonie,” Oliver says, holding his little hand out to their driver to stop him from pulling away from the curb. 

Moira gives him a confused look. They’ve been going to Russo’s since before Oliver was born. His first solid food was at Russo’s. The only thing Oliver will eat faster than Raisa’s special mashed potatoes are the buttered noodles there. 

“Why can’t we go to Russo’s?” she asks as Oliver swings open the door and hops back out. 

She has no idea where he’s off to. 

“Felicity says that Mr. Moretti is a big meanie and we shouldn’t give him any more money,” Oliver says matter of factly before running off without another word. 

“Where are you going?” Moira calls after him, about to climb out after him. 

“He’s probably just going to tell Felicity that he won’t be at the park today,” Antoine informs her. 

“I see,” she says curtly. She has no idea who this Felicity girl is, or why she’s going around school bad mouthing one of Moira’s oldest friends, but she's not impressed. 

Moira watches as Oliver runs over to a small girl with a brown ponytail, glasses, and last season’s uniform. He throws his arms around her and the two of them talk for several minutes, both of them looking rather upset. 

“Who is Felicity?” she asks, watching as Oliver takes Felicity’s backpack from her and carries it to a beat up old Honda and puts it in the back seat for her. She’s never seen Oliver do anything so chivalrous in her life. She doesn't know where Oliver got that from. Robert hasn't done anything like that for her in over a year. 

“She’s Oliver’s best friend,” Antoine says, as if it’s no big deal. But it is. 

Tommy Merlyn is Oliver’s best friend. Oliver and Tommy have been playing together practically from the day they were born. They used to share a crib back in the day during the many vacations the Queen’s have had with the Merlyn’s. 

Moira’s never seen or heard of this Felicity girl before, and if the car she’s getting into is any indication, she’s not from the kind of family Moira would typically approve of Oliver spending time with. 

“Who are Felicity’s parents?” she asks. 

Starling Prep is a prestigious school with a very exclusive clientele. The children that attend are all part of the city’s elite. There are the rare scholarship students that attend, but Moira hadn’t thought that Oliver’s class had any scholarship students in it. Perhaps she really is from a well-off family that just hasn’t figured out the rules and expectations yet. Perhaps they are eccentric. 

Moira can handle eccentric. 

“I’m not sure, I’ve never met her mother and her dad is out of the picture. I’ve only ever met her babysitter. That’s her right there,” Antoine explains. “Shawna is a sophomore at Starling U and watches Felicity after school while her mom works.” 

The woman picking her up in the beat up old car is her babysitter. That’s reassuring, Moira thinks. At least she can breathe a sigh of relief. She’d been thinking Felicity was some little kid from the Glades the school had taken in for charity. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Moira is all about giving to those less fortunate. It’s just not who she wants Oliver hanging around with. 

Oliver comes running back to the car and climbs in. 

“Felicity said it’s okay,” Oliver says. “We can play tomorrow.” 

“Well, I’m glad I have Felicity’s permission to spend time with my own son,” Moira says with a surprised scoff that clearly goes right over his head, because he just smiles back at her. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I didn’t want her to be sad.” 

****

“Eat your food, Sweetheart,” Moira leans over to whisper into Oliver’s ear, not wanting Rose to think he’s rude for not eating the dessert that had been made especially for the boys. 

He hasn’t touched the chocolate brownie that’s been put in front of him, which is odd. Oliver loves anything sweet. Especially if it has chocolate in it. 

“I can’t,” he grumbles, pushing his plate away in annoyance, causing the entire table to look up at them. 

“I’m sorry, Rose, he must be getting sick,” Moira quickly covers for her son, lest her friends think she’s raising a heathen. 

She places her hand to his forehead, but doesn’t feel any temperature. 

“I’m not sick,” he protests. “It has nuts.” 

Moira gives him a confused look. “You’ve eaten nuts before.” 

“Mom,” he says, looking at her like she’s missing something major. She recognizes that look. It’s the same one Robert gets when he’s annoyed by whatever it is she’s doing. She’s just never seen that look on her own son’s face before. At least, never directed at her. 

“Felicity’s allergic,” Oliver says, like she should have somehow known this. 

“Okay,” Moira says, still confused what that has to do with her son. “I’m not asking her to eat it, I’m asking you.” 

“I can’t eat it,” Oliver says. “Felicity could  _ die _ .” 

“Did she tell you that you can’t eat nuts?” Moira asks, feeling the pit of annoyance that she gets whenever Felicity’s name is brought up grow. “She’s not even here.” 

It’s not that Moira honestly dislikes a six year old girl, but lately every word out of Oliver’s mouth is ‘Felicity says this,’ and ‘Felicity says that.’ She’s starting to think that this girl has too much say in Oliver’s life. Last night, Oliver refused to put on a clean sweater because Felicity told him he was wasting water by not wearing his dirty sweater several days in a row. He’d actually preferred to go to school in the same sweater as the day before because Felicity said it was better. 

It’s getting old. Moira misses her little angel who never talked back or questioned her word. 

“Who’s Felicity?” Rose asks Oliver. 

“My friend,” Oliver says with a surprising blush. 

“Do you have a crush?” Rebecca asks with a warm smile. 

“Ollie  _ loves _ Felicity,” Tommy says with a smirk, causing Oliver to groan. “They’re going to get married.”

“We are not,” he says. “I just think she’s really smart, and really pretty, and really nice, and I like her smile. She tells funny jokes.” 

“Watch out Moira,” Rebecca says with an amused smile. “It seems like you’re about to lose your baby boy to another woman.” 

Moira rolls her eyes and laughs. “He’s six. I think he’ll still be my sweet boy for at least a few more years. Isn’t that right, Oliver?” 

“Yeah,” Oliver says, giving her a big smile. “I don't want to get married yet. Maybe when I'm ten.”

“I don't ever want to get married,” Tommy says. “Girls are gross.”

Moira smiles at Tommy. If only Oliver thought that girls were gross, then she wouldn't have to worry about how much influence Felicity has on her little boy. 

“You won't always think girls are gross,” Rebecca says. 

Tommy just shrugs. “Can Ollie and I go play with Mrs. Davenport’s dog?” 

“Yeah!” Oliver says excitedly, all thoughts of Felicity out the window. 

Rose smiles at the boys. “I’m sure Max would love that. Just don’t run over my flower beds.” 

Oliver and Tommy take off towards the back yard, leaving the ladies to chat without young ears. 

“So who is this Felicity that Oliver is so smitten with?” Rose asks. 

Moira is saved from having to admit she doesn’t actually know who Felicity's parents are by Rebecca. 

“Felicity and her mother moved to Starling several months ago,” Rebecca explains. “I met them both when I was visiting my clinic. When I realized how smart Felicity was and that she had applied for the scholarship at Starling Prep, I put in a good word for her.” 

Moira nods, trying to hide her shock. If Rebecca met Felicity and her mother at her clinic, that means they  _ are _ from the Glades. Suddenly, Moira is a lot more concerned with how attached Oliver is to Felicity. What if he wants to go over to her house to play? Would she really be able to allow that? The Glades is dangerous. Oliver could get hurt. He's an easy target. Their family is well off and the people in the Glades can get desperate for money. What if they see her son as an easy paycheck and hurt him? Or worse? 

No. This won’t do. 

Moira should set up some more play dates for Oliver so he can meet some other, safer friends. 

“It’s good that you help all those people in the Glades, Rebecca,” Rose says with a smile that Moira knows really just means ‘It’s good you’re helping them so that I don’t have to.’ 

Rose Davenport comes from old money, like Moira. She prefers her charity work to be from a distance. 

“Well, when we have this much, it seems cruel not to help out people who have so little,” Rebecca says. “And Donna is a good woman. She works hard and Felicity is a good kid. They deserve a break.” 

“And how sweet of your little Oliver, Moira?” Rose says. “Taking this Felicity in and helping her feel welcome. He’s got a big heart. You’re raising a good boy, there.” 

Moira smiles at the compliment and tries to reassure herself that Rose is right. It’s good that Oliver is spending time with Felicity. It’ll teach him to be more gracious and kind. He's only six. It's not like he's going to marry this girl. His infatuation with her will pass as quickly as his obsession with Sesame Street did. 

She just needs to keep a closer eye on him to make sure that he doesn’t end up getting hurt somehow for being kind enough to extend his hand in charity.  

****

“I don't want to go to Monaco,” Moira hears Oliver whining to Raisa as she walks past his bedroom. 

“You'll have fun, Mr. Oliver,” she says. “You'll see.”

“Why can't I stay here with you?” he asks. 

Moira stops at the door to listen to the conversation. Oliver's always enjoyed their family vacations. He loves traveling on airplanes and exploring new places with Tommy. He especially likes the time he gets to spend with Robert, as family vacations are some of the only times he can have Robert’s undivided attention. They are supposed to leave tomorrow. The plan is to spend Thanksgiving with the Merlyn’s before Robert has to head to Paris on business and they need to get back home for school. 

She’s honestly surprised Oliver isn't already packed and waiting at the door. They usually have the hardest time getting him to sleep the night before a vacation, he's so excited. 

“You'll see Felicity in one week,” Raisa says. 

“It's too long,” Oliver complains. “I don't understand why she can't come with.” 

“Monaco is very expensive,” Raisa explains. “Miss Felicity and her mom can't afford to fly there.”

“But I can pay for them,” Oliver says. “We have money.”

Moira’s heart drops. Has Felicity been asking Oliver to pay for her to do things? How else did Oliver understand? It's not like they talk to Oliver about money. He's too young. 

“It's not just the money, sweetheart,” Raisa explains. “Ms. Smoak can't take time off of work.”

“Felicity can come alone. You can watch her,” Oliver says, sounding so sad that Moira’s heart pulls. She hates hearing Oliver upset. 

“Don't you think Felicity’s mom would miss her?” Raisa asks. 

Oliver sighs so loud Moira can hear it through the door. 

“I guess,” Oliver says. “Can I stay with Felicity and you guys can just go?” 

Moira knows it's probably normal for Oliver to feel attached to his friends, but she doesn't like it. Would he honestly prefer to spend the holiday with Felicity than her? She's his mother. 

“You'd miss your mom and dad too much,” Raisa says. “I promise, Mr. Oliver, you'll have so much fun that you'll barely notice the time pass you by.”

“If you say so,” Oliver grumbles. 

Moira tries not to let his attitude get to her. Raisa is right. He’ll enjoy himself once he’s there. And it’s not as if Oliver honestly loves Felicity more than he loves her, but it’s hard sometimes. He’s her little boy and she knows there are only going to be so many years that they have together like this. He’ll be a teenager before she knows it and won’t want anything to do with her. 

****

“Mom?” Oliver comes into the reading room carrying a book in his hand and a concerned look. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” 

She reaches out and pulls Oliver into her lap. 

“Why do we live in a castle when other people just have a house or a ‘partment?” he asks, clutching his book to his chest so tightly that she can't see what he's reading. 

“Well your daddy works very hard running Queen Consolidated everyday, so he's able to buy us nice things,” she explains. 

Their fortune also comes from her trust, but that is too complicated for Moira to try to explain to her second grader. 

“Ms. Smoak works hard,” Oliver says, leaning his head back against her shoulder. “She works everyday from early in the morning til late at night and she can't buy Felicity anything nice.” 

Moira sighs. She doesn't know how to explain to him that some jobs are worth more than others. That working as a cocktail waitress and at a 24-hour diner isn't the same as being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. 

“Your daddy has a lot more responsibility,” she says. “He has to make sure thousands of people are doing their job right. If he makes a mistake, people could lose their job. It's a lot of work.”

“If Ms. Smoak makes a mistake, she can lose her job and then they lose their ‘partment.”

“Is that what Felicity told you?” Moira asks, not wanting to be nosey but curious if Donna Smoak had lost her job again. She wonders if they get evicted, if it means they’ll have to move back to Vegas. 

Oliver nods. 

“Ms. Smoak got in trouble because Felicity was sick,” Oliver says. “Mr. Jordon said she can't work there.”

Moira sighs. She doubts that the only reason Moira got fired was for missing a few days of work with a sick kid. Parents are entitled to family leave. Paul Jordon certainly gives his employees that. Donna probably got caught stealing money from the register or talking back to a customer and doesn't want to admit it to her daughter. 

“I'm sure Ms. Smoak will figure something out,” Moira says, brushing his hair off of his forehead. “You don't need to concern yourself with things like that.”

“But Felicity is worried,” Oliver says. “It's making her sad.”

“Felicity shouldn't worry about it either,” she says. 

Felicity is only seven. Donna shouldn't share so much information with her daughter. She's not mature enough to understand the world and it's only going to make her worry. Donna should know better. Felicity is her daughter, not her best friend. 

****

“What’s the big deal?” Robert asks as he unbuttons his shirt. 

“What’s the big deal?” Moira asks. “Did you see that woman? She was wearing… I don’t even know what that was. It wasn’t appropriate for a school function.” 

“Why are you letting this get to you so much?” he asks, shrugging off his shirt and putting it in the laundry basket. 

“Because that woman was Felicity’s mother,” she explains, turning around so that Robert can help unzip her dress. 

“I think you’re overreacting,” Robert says. “Donna was nice enough and Oliver loves Felicity.” 

Moira pulls off her dress carefully and hangs it back up, putting it over with the rest of her clothes that need to go to the cleaners. 

“Donna?” Moira says. “So you introduced yourself to her then did you?” she scoffs. 

Why is she not surprised? Robert never has been able to resist a trashy woman in a short skirt. 

“She’s Felicity’s mother,” he explains with a deep sigh that he reserves only for when he’s annoyed with her. “Of course I introduced myself. Oliver has been friends with Felicity for two years now and we’ve never met her mother. Don’t you find that weird?”

“ _ You’ve _ never met her mother because  _ you _ are always working during school events,” Moira says. “I’ve met that woman plenty of times.” 

“Well good,” he says. “Then you’ll have plenty to talk about tomorrow. I invited her over for dinner.” 

“You did what?” she asks, suddenly livid. How dare he invite them over without asking her first. What if they had plans? 

“Felicity clearly isn’t going anywhere, so we should really get to know her mother,” Robert says. 

“You’re only saying that because you want to sleep with her,” she says, scathingly, storming out of the closet to grab his pillow off the bed. 

“Moira, you’re being ridiculous,” he says, trailing after her. 

“Am I?” she asks, handing the pillow to him. “And was I also ridiculous when I asked if you were sleeping with your intern and you said no? Because I’m pretty sure I don’t own a black lace thong, but you had one in your suitcase last week.” 

Robert opens his mouth to give her what is sure to be a well thought out lie, but she holds her hand up to stop him. “No. You can sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall.” 

“Because I invited Donna Smoak over for dinner?” Robert asks, shaking his head. 

Moira takes a deep breath and swallows down the scathing words that she knows she’ll regret later. Like her mother always used to say, ‘a temper is unbecoming of a lady.’ 

“I know you don’t believe this, because you didn’t grow up with money, but our society has rules. It has expectations. And women like Donna Smoak don’t fit into those expectations. You shouldn’t be encouraging Oliver’s friendship,” she says. “And if you’re going to have an affair, you can at least do me the decency of  _ hiding _ the underwear you collect from your interns like every other man.”

“Moira,” Robert says with a smile, looking at her like he thinks she’s being ridiculous. “Donna Smoak is harmless.” 

He doesn’t even try and defend himself on the intern front. She breathes a sigh of annoyance. 

“Right now, his friendship with her is cute,” she explains. “People will say that Oliver’s a good kid for befriending her. They think it’s charitable. But in a few years when Oliver decides he wants to date her? It won’t be so cute. People will think he’s marrying down. That our family is getting too liberal. That we don’t share their values. Or worse, they’ll think we can’t control our own child. They won’t see Oliver as an acceptable leader of the company which will destroy QC’s long-term profitability. And do you know what starts happening then? People start second guessing their decision to invest in QC and your stock prices plummet. You own a Fortune 500 company, Robert. We have an image to maintain.” 

“You’re being completely paranoid,” Robert says, shaking his head in disbelief. “The company is doing well and it doesn’t matter who Oliver decides to date. Besides, Moria, he’s 8. I think we’ve still got some time on the dating front.” 

“You have no idea how things work for people in our position,” she explains, knowing it’s going to once again fall on deaf ears. “I’m not saying this because I agree with the way things are. Or that I like it. I’m saying this because I’m realistic and I know that we can lose all of this just as quickly as we got it.” 

“Have you seen the size of your trust?” He laughs. 

She grumbles. 

“Your family has been rich for generations,” Robert says. “Stop worrying.” 

Moira rolls her eyes and climbs into bed, not bothering to protest when he climbs in with her. 

“I promise you, the world is not going to end if Oliver has one normal friend. If anything, it’ll make us look more human to our workers.”

Moira scoffs. QC’s workers aren’t the ones investing millions of dollars in contracts with them. The workers aren’t buying up thousands of shares. She’s more concerned about appeasing the board and their major investors. 

****

“No,” Moira says firmly, not even thinking about Oliver’s request. There is no way in hell she’s letting her son go to the Glades, least of all on a holiday that’s known to bring out the crazies. 

“But Mom—” he starts to whine, but she cuts him off. 

“What’s wrong with Felicity joining you at Carter Bowen’s party?” Moira says. “There’s going to be games, plenty of candy, a costume contest.”

“I want to go trick or treating,” he grumbles. 

“You can go trick or treating in our neighborhood,” she says. 

“It takes 15 minutes to walk to the next door neighbors,” he says, looking at her like she’s crazy. 

“Then take a car,” she says with a tone that ends the conversation. 

Oliver pushes his plate away and crosses his arms, sulking. 

“What’s the problem?” Robert asks, walking into the room with his briefcase in hand. One of the maids rushes to pour him a cup of coffee while he pulls some fruit onto his plate. 

“I want to go trick or treating and Mom says I can’t,” Oliver grumbles. 

“I loved trick or treating when I was a kid,” Robert says with a big smile. Moira glares at him. “What’s the problem?” 

“He wants to go trick or treating with Felicity,” Moira says, giving him a pointed look. 

“And this is surprising,” he says, clearly not getting the point. 

“Felicity lives in the Glades. It’s not safe,” she says. 

“He can take Antoine,” he says with a shrug, and instantly Oliver perks up. Moira scoffs. “Antonie was a Navy Seal and we pay him a king’s ransom each month to make sure that Oliver is more than protected, do you really think he’d let anything happen?” 

“It’s the  _ Glades _ ,” Moira argues. 

“Felicity says that people in the Glades are really nice,” Oliver says. “Not that I’d know, since you never let me go over to her house.” 

“Let’s not kid ourselves, Felicity Smoak doesn’t live in a house, she lives in a rent controlled apartment in the slums,” Moira says in a moment of annoyance before catching herself. 

Robert’s fork fall to his plate loudly in shock. She turns to look at Oliver, ready to apologize, but rather than looking upset like she expects, he looks determined. 

“Felicity is the smartest girl in our school and when she grows up, she’s going to be richer than all of us,” Oliver says. “And when that happens, I hope  _ she _ lets  _ her _ kids play with  _ mine _ .” 

Moira is shocked. So shocked by the words that come out of his mouth that she doesn’t even stop him when he stands up and leaves the table without permission. 

“Did my son just call me an elitist?” she says, still in shock. 

Where on earth did he even get that idea? He’s in fourth grade. He can’t have gotten that from anyone but Felicity. 

Robert starts laughing to himself.  

“And what do you find so amusing?” She glares at him. 

“It’s funny that he honestly believes the two of them aren’t getting married one day.” 

God, Moira can only hope. The last thing she needs is Felicity Smoak to become Felicity Queen. 

****

Moira stands in the bathroom re-reading the instructions for the fifteenth time, begging for a different answer. Blue can’t mean pregnant. She cannot  _ be _ pregnant. Except, she knows that the test isn’t lying. 

She hasn’t had her period in 9 weeks. Despite how careful she’d thought they had been, she’s pregnant. Which means she has a decision to make. Right now, she can either make an appointment to take care of the problem or she can tell Robert and hope that he never does the math. 

If he does the math, he’ll realize that they weren’t having sex 11 weeks ago when this child would have been conceived. He’d been conducting “business” in Tokyo at the time, which really was just code for him screwing yet another intern. Moira had been pissed and Malcolm had been lonely. Their affair had lasted exactly 9 days before they both realized that it was an awful idea. Moira doesn’t love Malcolm and Rebecca had been her best friend. It had been wrong to sleep with her husband, even after her passing. 

She needs to make a decision. 

If she gets rid of the baby, she’s never going to be able to live with herself. She’s wanted another child with Robert for years and despite how this baby is coming into the world a part of her still desperately wants it. 

If she tells Robert, he will leave her. It doesn’t matter that he cheated on her first. There has always been a gross double standard in their world when it comes to affairs. If Robert finds out that she slept with Malcolm and got pregnant, he will leave her. Oliver doesn’t deserve that. Robert may not always be around, but when he’s here, Oliver worships the ground he walks on. She can’t take his father away from him. And even if she could. Even if she could justify putting Oliver through the pain of a divorce, she won’t. She loves Robert. Despite his transgressions, he’s a good man with a good heart. She can’t help but love him. She just wishes he could feel the same way about her. 

One option is so far off of the table it’s not even a possibility. Malcolm will never know that she is pregnant with his child. Even if he hadn’t abandoned Tommy to travel to god knows where, he’s an awful father. Ever since Rebecca died he’s been distant and cold with Tommy, never showing him nearly enough love. On the rare occurrence he calls to check in with his son, he can barely speak to him for 5 minutes before hanging up without so much as an “I love you.” 

Maybe if this were a few years ago things would be different… Then again, if this were a few years ago, she wouldn’t be pregnant. Malcolm was one of the few men in Starling that had never once cheated on his wife. He worshiped the ground Rebecca walked on. 

If she’s being honest with herself, that’s what had made it so easy to fall under his spell for those 9 days. She’d always been jealous of the way Rebecca had her husband’s undivided attention when she could never figure out how to get Robert’s. 

Moira takes a deep breath and pulls herself together. She wraps the test in plenty of toilet paper before tossing it. The last thing she needs is one of the housekeepers gossiping about how she’s pregnant. Not before she’s figured out how she’s going to handle this. She tears the box and instructions up into pieces and then flushes it down the toilet. Finally, she splashes some cold water on her face and touches up her makeup before heading downstairs for lunch. 

On her way to the dining room, she hears a familiar giggle that may as well be nails on a chalkboard as far as Moira is concerned. She had forgotten, in all of her inner panic, that today is Saturday. Of course Felicity is over. Donna Smoak works on Saturdays and Robert had graciously volunteered their house without waiting for her input. If Robert thinks they aren’t going to claim this as a tax exception, he’s wrong. They aren’t running an orphanage here. 

Taking in Tommy is one thing. The Merlyn’s are their dearest friends. It’s a favor. Taking in Felicity is just charity and their friends are already talking about it in the condescending way they have. Last week Hannah Rosenburg had pulled her aside and asked if they were having money problems. She’d assumed Moira was running a daycare out of their house in order to help pay the bills. It’s embarrassing. Why doesn’t Robert see that? 

“That’s not how it happened,” Felicity says as Moira enters the room and takes her usual seat next to her husband. 

“How would you know?” Tommy says. “Your head was buried in yet another book.” 

“It’s called multitasking. Some of us have that talent,” she says with more sass than Moira finds appropriate for a young lady.

“One of these days you two are going to be friends,” Oliver says with his mouth full, earning him a glare. He knows better. 

“We’re friendly,” Tommy says with a mischievous smile, quietly adding, “But I’m not friends with nerds.” 

“And I’m not friends with future frat boys,” she argues, glaring at Tommy. 

“Alright,” Moira says, having had enough. “It’s hardly appropriate to argue at the table. Especially for a guest,” she says, looking directly at Felicity. If Donna isn’t going to teach the girl some manners, Moira will have to. 

“Sorry, Mrs. Queen,” Felicity says with a deep blush, staring down at her plate. 

“It’s alright, Sweetheart. It’s a woman’s job to keep her boys in line,” Robert says with a kind smile and a wink, which makes Felicity smile. Moira can’t help but roll her eyes. Robert and her never seem to be on the same page of anything these days. 

Moira pours herself a cup of tea. 

“Is that herbal tea?” Felicity asks, staring at her cup. 

“No, it’s Orange Pekoe,” she says, wondering why she’s asking. Felicity’s never liked tea before. 

“Shawna says that non-herbal teas are bad for pregnancy because it has caffeine and you really shouldn’t have caffeine when pregnant if you can help it. Orange Pekoe has like 34 milligrams of caffeine in it and—” Moira’s entire world stops spinning as Felicity continues to ramble on. 

She can feel Robert’s gaze on her as the walls feel like they are closing in. 

How on Earth could Felicity have found out when she only just took the test? Had Felicity been sneaking around in her bathroom? She wouldn’t put it past her. 

“You’re pregnant?” Oliver asks. 

Moira shakes her head, but there’s really no turning back now. The cat’s out of the bag. 

“Moira,” Robert says loudly, pulling her back from her thoughts. The walls seem to snap back into place and the world starts spinning again. She takes a deep breath and composes herself. She’s Moira Queen. She doesn’t lose it. 

“I was waiting to tell you until after I saw the doctor to confirm,” Moira says, quickly covering for herself. 

“I’m sorry!” Felicity exclaims while Tommy snickers. “I just thought everyone knew already. I never meant to just… I mean if I thought that it was a secret… I just… Shawna says you’re not supposed to have caffeine and I didn’t want you to—”

“It’s okay,” Robert says, reaching his hand out to place it on Felicity’s shoulder so she’ll stop blathering on. 

“How did you know?” Oliver asks Felicity. 

Felicity shrugs. “You said your mom’s been sick and she’s been more tired. Plus her skin is glowing and that’s what happened to Shawna when she first got pregnant. She said it’s the hormones. I just put the pieces together.” 

“So it’s true?” Oliver asks, turning to look at her. 

Moira nods and Oliver’s face breaks out into the biggest smile she’s seen from him outside of Christmas morning. She looks over to Robert and his smile is more reserved. More suspicious. 

“When’s your appointment?” Robert asks. 

“I haven’t made one yet,” she says. 

“Well make sure you check with Martha before you schedule. I’d like to be there for it,” he says and she can hear what he’s not saying in front of the children. 

He wants to know when her due date is. He’s already doing the math. She wonders how much she would have to pay Dr. Gill to lie about her due date.

****

Moira closes her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep. In the last month or so, it’s become increasingly difficult to get any kind of rest. She’s uncomfortable all of the time. Her back aches constantly. The shooting pain in her thigh won’t go away because, as Dr. Gill explained, the baby is pressing on her nerve. In addition to those symptoms and the fact that she’s going to have to get up to pee about a hundred times tonight, she’s got heartburn. 

“Just four more weeks,” Robert says, reaching out to massage her lower back, which actually does help. 

While Robert may not be the most attentive husband on a normal day, he’s been incredibly attentive for her entire pregnancy. It almost makes her wish that the baby would stay in there for another few weeks, despite the uncomfortable side effects of being in her third trimester. She knows that’s unlikely, though. Her real due date, despite what they’ve told Robert, is just two weeks away. Their baby girl will be here before they know it. 

Moira settles against Robert’s back when he’s done massaging her and he wraps his arms around her, feeling around her stomach for where the baby is. She guides his hands over towards her head which is currently lodged right under her ribcage. 

“We can’t wait to meet you little Dorothy,” Robert says. 

“I told you, we aren’t naming her that,” Moira says with a smile. “She’s not an 80 year old woman.” 

“My mom really wants us to name her after my grandmother.” 

“And while I can appreciate that, Dorothy is the name for either an 80 year old woman or a girl who’s lost in Oz,” Moira says. “What would we even call her? Dot. No, thank you.” 

“We could call her Thea,” Robert says. “That was my grandmother’s nickname growing up.” 

“Thea,” Moira says, testing the name out to see how it sounds. “Thea Queen.” 

She likes it. It’s unique enough to stand out. It rolls off of the tongue easily. It’s regal. “It’s perfect,” she says. 

“So we can name her Dorothy?” Robert asks. 

“No, just Thea,” Moira says. “Thea Dearden Queen.” 

“It’s perfect,” he agrees, nuzzling into her neck. 

She smiles. They’ve been arguing over names for months. Ever since they found out they were having a girl. She’s happy they’ve finally settled on something they both like. 

While Robert mouths at her neck, he takes hold of her hips and pulls her against him. She can’t help the moan she releases. The one third trimester symptom she hasn’t complained about is the heightened sex drive. She’s never felt closer to Robert because of it. 

She’s about to pull her nightgown off when she hears it. The little sound of feet making their way down the hall. 

“Shh,” Moira says, holding her hand out to stop Robert from moving so she can hear better. She waits for a second, and then she hears the sound of a door being opened and closed down the hall. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbles, moving to get out of bed, but he reaches out to stop her. 

“Let it go, Moira,” he says, nibbling on her ear, trying to distract her but it won’t work. Not now that she knows Felicity is currently climbing into bed with Oliver. 

“It’s not appropriate,” she complains. Her son isn’t old enough to be sharing a bed with a girl. 

“They’re ten. What do you think they are doing?” he laughs, earning him a smack on the shoulder. 

“I don’t know, but it’s not appropriate,” she huffs. 

“Tommy’s asleep on Ollie’s couch,” he says. “It’s fine.” 

Robert’s hands move to massage her breast and she weighs his words. If Tommy’s in the room, then she knows Felicity won’t try anything scandalous. She doesn’t know what kind of activity a ten year old would honestly get up to, but she doesn’t put much past Felicity. Lord knows the kind of things she’s learned growing up in the Glades. Moira’s sure that Felicity’s building has at least a few hookers working out of it... 

At least if Tommy is there, he’ll act as a buffer. And Robert’s hands do feel really heavenly right now. 

“You’re sure?” she asks, not believing that she’s actually going to go along with this. 

“I checked in on them about an hour ago,” he reassures her. “He fell asleep in Ollie’s room watching a movie.” 

“She should know better,” Moira complains. 

What kind of ten year old sneaks into a boy’s room at night? She has a perfectly fine guest room of her own to sleep in. It’s not like they’d put her on a beat up cot or something. She’d been on egyptian cotton sheets and a ten thousand dollar mattress. 

“Again, I’m not sure what you think is happening in there,” he says, pulling the strap of her gown off of her shoulder to kiss it. 

“I don’t want Oliver getting any ideas,” she says, moaning when Robert presses himself against her. “They won’t be ten forever.” 

“No,” he says, pulling her nightgown up over her thighs. “They won’t. But I don’t see them getting together for a long time anyways.” 

“Why not?” she asks, her breath hitching as he traces the outline of her underwear. “You don’t think she’s going to try and tempt Oliver?” 

“ _ I’m _ trying to tempt  _ you _ ,” he teases. “Can we let this go?” 

The two of them make love before settling back into bed. Moira’s just about to fall asleep when Robert starts laughing uncontrollably. 

“What?” she asks, turning around to watching him in amusement. She doesn’t often see him like this. 

“You think Felicity has some kind of siren song?” he says between gasps of air as he tries to control himself. 

“She’s always had a pull over Oliver,” she says defensively. 

“I agree, but it’s not because she’s some kind of temptress,” he says. “The girl can barely string two words together without rambling on. You think she’s going to somehow get it together to seduce Ollie?” 

“You’ve seen her mother,” she argues. 

It’s not ridiculous to think that Felicity would do exactly that. Moira’s long suspected that her little innocent act is just that. Donna Smoak is a gold digger and she’s positive that she’s training Felicity well. After all, she’s already wedged her way into her son’s life and she doubts that has nothing to do with his ever growing trust fund. 

“When are you going to lay off Donna?” he asks. “She’s a cocktail waitress, she has to dress that way.” 

She laughs in disbelief. “To a school function?” 

“Moira, let it go,” he says, signalling that he’s done with this conversation. “Felicity is a good kid. She’s a good influence on Ollie.” 

“Oliver doesn’t need a good influence,” she says. “He’s a good boy on his own.” 

Robert snorts. “We’ll see about that when he enters middle school next year.” 

****

“Donna Smoak is talking to Paul Jordan,” Rose comes up to whisper into her ear. 

“The divorce has been finalized for what? A month?” Moira asks in disbelief. 

“Three weeks,” Rose says. “Isabelle is pissed.” 

“I’d imagine,” Moira says. “Today is supposed to be about the children.” 

She glances across the room to where Donna Smoak is standing at a table near the bar being chatted up by Paul. While her body language says she’s playing hard to get, that dress is anything but. Most of their husbands eyes have been on her since she arrived and she’s sure that’s exactly how Donna likes it. There’s no other way she continues to wear dresses like that to school events. 

“Poor Felicity,” Rose says. “It’s must be embarrassing to be at these functions with her mother.” 

Moira looks to Felicity, who is sitting at that table with a glass of soda and her nose buried in a book. She keeps her comments about Felicity to herself. She’s sure that the girl is busy taking notes of her own on how to attract high society men. She has to know that Oliver not only lives to play the white knight, but that he also admires a smart woman. Sitting at events reading, pretending to be an awkward wallflower is exactly the kind of play aimed at attracting her son. 

“What’s this I hear about Oliver asking Felicity out on Valentine’s Day?” Rose asks. 

Moira rolls her eyes. “He wasn’t asking her out. He gave her a stuffed animal. They are friends and he wanted to make sure she got a present on Valentine’s Day. Don’t read too much into it.” 

Rose holds back a smile and Moira knows there’s little she can to do convince her otherwise. It’s starting. Ever since Oliver entered middle school the tone has switched around his friendship with Felicity. It’s no longer about how sweet he is for taking her under his wing, it’s about how he’s clearly in love with her. Nobody dares voice their displeasure about Felicity to her face, so they make comments about Donna instead. It’s a subtle way to remind her that the Smoak’s are not the kind of people they want in their world. 

As if she needs that reminder. 

As if she has any control over who Oliver chooses to spend his time with. If she did, Felicity would have been gone a long time ago. 

“Where is Oliver?” Rose asks. 

“Robert is bringing him later,” she says. “Tommy had a polo tournament this afternoon and they wanted to watch.” 

“Let me guess, Malcolm’s out of town again?” 

Moira glares at her for her tone. “He’s a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. He’s in China on business. Robert is gone just as often but he has the luxury of not being a single parent.” 

Moira may have her own thoughts on Malcolm’s distant relationship with Tommy, but she’s not going to air that at a public function. And she’s certainly not going to let Rose Davenport get away with saying a bad word about the Merlyn’s when she hasn’t done anything for the family since Rebecca’s funeral. The woman had been one of Rebecca’s closest friends as well, and where is she now? 

“You’re right, I apologize,” Rose says awkwardly. “Oh look, there’s Grace. I should really go say hello.” 

And with that, Rose slips away. 

“Well that looked pleasant,” Robert says, coming to stand next to her. 

“You made it,” she says with a smile, accepting a kiss on the cheek from him. “How was the tournament?” 

“Tommy’s team took first.” 

“That’s great,” she says. “We should take him out to celebrate.” 

“I promised him we’d go to Russo’s for some real food after this thing is over,” he says.

Moira nods in agreement as Robert excuses himself to go speak to some business partners of his. She looks over and is hardly surprised to see that Oliver’s already at Felicity’s table attempting to pull the book out of her hand. Ten other girls in Oliver’s 6th grade class and yet Felicity’s the one that has him wrapped around her finger. It’s never made any sense to her. 

****

Moira ties the robe tighter around her waist before descending the stairs in an effort to find out what all of the commotion is about. 

“What’s going on?” she asks, seeing James Holder in their foyer. He looks irate. 

“ _ Your son _ broke Alex’s nose,” he says the word ‘son’ like he’s speaking of gum on the bottom of his shoe and it immediately puts Moira on the defensive. 

“I beg your pardon?” she asks. 

“I’ve got this, Moira,” Robert says. “Go back to bed.” 

Moira crosses her arms and doesn’t move, but she does let Robert take care of this. 

“What do you want, James?” Robert asks. 

“I want your son to be expelled! That little heathen is out of control,” James yells. 

“First of all, this didn’t happen on school property, so they aren’t going to expel him,” Robert says. “And second of all, did you even ask your son why Oliver hit him?” 

“What does it matter? He broke his nose. Nothing makes that acceptable,” James says. 

“It seems to me that you have two options here James,” Robert says, using that dangerous voice he gets sometimes. “You can continue to stand in my home and yell at me about my son, at which point I’ll call my lawyer and file a harassment suit against your son on behalf of Felicity Smoak, or you can go home and get some rest. It’s been a long night for everyone.” 

Moira schools her expression and resists the urge to roll her eyes. Of course this is about Felicity. When is it ever not? 

“You’d never win.” James scoffs. “They were playing spin the bottle and your son got jealous.” 

“I don’t have to win,” Robert says, his voice low and gravely. “Your name would get dragged through the mud on this case and you know it. Meanwhile, Oliver would come out looking like a hero.” 

“He broke Alex’s nose because he’s jealous and you think that the papers will praise him?”

“They will when we make it clear your family has a history of sexual assault,” Robert says. 

“Yes because people usually listen when white trash from the Glades start looking for a payout,” James laughs. “You’ve lost your mind, Robert.” 

“She’s not white trash!” Oliver yells, storming into the room, his face red with anger. 

“Oliver, go sit back down,” Robert says firmly, pointing at the sitting room. Oliver stands there for another minute, fists clenched like he’s ready to hit James Holder, before he thinks better of it and storms back into the sitting room. 

“Your son has a temper. You should really take care of that,” James says. 

“Thank you for your parenting advice, but I think you’ve got a child of your own to worry about, don’t you James?” Robert says. 

James crosses his arms clearly trying to appear as if he’s still in control of this conversation when he lost the second Robert brought up lawyers. James probably has a case against Oliver, but the Queens have the best defense lawyers in the country. James has to know he won’t ever win against them. 

“I don’t want Oliver around Alex anymore,” James says. 

Moira can hear Oliver laughing in the other room. 

“That won’t be a problem,” Robert says. “I doubt Oliver wants to be anywhere near Alex anymore.” 

“He can’t punch every kid that makes a pass at Felicity,” James says. 

Robert sighs, dropping his hands to his side as he walks to the door. “Go home, James.” 

James leaves without another word. 

“He broke his nose?” Moira asks him the second the door is closed. 

“There was a party,” Robert says. “Alex got a little too enthusiastic and Oliver intervened. It’s fine. Go back to bed.” 

Moira rolls her eyes, but heads back upstairs. She’s going to hear about this for the next several weeks. She’s going to get judgemental looks as people gossip behind their backs about how they’ve raised a hellion. Moira loves Oliver, but a part of her wonders if they are right. He’s been spending more and more time in the Glades recently and she feels like it’s having an effect on him. After all, he’s just broken a classmates nose. That’s something her sweet boy never would have done before. 

What was Felicity doing kissing boys at this party anyways? She’s twelve. 

****

Moira walks into their bedroom with a box of condoms in her hand trying not to freak out. 

“Robert, we need to talk about Oliver,” she says, gesturing to the box in her hand. 

He looks up from where he’s reading on their bed. 

“Are you going through his drawers now?” Robert asks. “You know he won’t forgive you for that.” 

“I was looking for his missing cufflink. I was going to send it out to get polished before your sister’s wedding next week,” she explains trying to figure out why Robert isn’t more surprised at the fact that their son has a box of condoms in his nightstand. Unless…

“You bought him condoms,” she says. It’s a statement rather than a question. She already knows it’s true. 

“You asked me to talk with him,” Robert says, putting down his book on the nightstand and taking off his reading glasses. 

“Yes, so that you could tell him to wait,” she says. 

When she’d asked Robert to talk to Oliver after rumors started going around that he’d been making out with McKenna Hall in the coat room a few weeks ago, she hadn’t meant that Robert should encourage him. 

“It’s unrealistic to expect Oliver to wait,” Robert says. 

“He’s thirteen!” she exclaims. “I hardly think that’s an appropriate age to be having sex. You didn’t lose your virginity until you were sixteen.” 

“Kids are having sex younger and younger these days,” he says. “And if I tell him no, he’s not going to listen to me. At least this way we can make sure he doesn’t get anyone pregnant.” 

Moira can’t help but laugh. They cannot honestly be having this conversation right now. 

“Oliver and McKenna are going to have sex and your solution was to give them condoms?” 

“No,” he says. 

“No? I’m holding the box!” she exclaims. 

“No, I mean, I don’t think Oliver’s going to have sex with McKenna,” he says. “She’s not who I’m concerned about.” 

“Then who?” Moira asks, but the second she says it she knows exactly who Robert is talking about. “No.” 

“You’ve seen the way he looks at her,” Robert says.  

“He’s always looked at her that way. You told me you didn’t think they’d get together for several more years!” Moira says, instantly starting to panic. If she thought Oliver having sex with McKenna was bad, him having sex with Felicity is even worse. At least McKenna Hall is a fleeting problem. Felicity is anything but. 

“Well clearly I was wrong,” Robert says. “You were in his bedroom. Didn’t you see the picture on his nightstand?” 

“The one from Fourth of July?” she asks, sitting down on the bed in defeat. Yes. She’s seen the picture. There’s no hiding how deep his love for Felicity goes. 

“Felicity is going places,” Robert says. “She’s going to get into an Ivy League school and really do something with her life. I’d hate to see her get pregnant and ruin that.” 

“That’s nice, you’re concerned about how a baby would screw up  _ her _ life,” Moira says. “What about Oliver’s?” 

“Moira,” he says, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. “They are good kids, but they are kids. They are bound to make mistakes. I just wanted to make sure that when they make this one, that they do so safely.” 

“I cannot believe that my baby is having sex already,” Moira says. “In my mind he’s still five years old and chasing after fireflies.” 

“He’s not having sex,” he says. “Yet.” 

That gives her a little relief, but not much. 

“I swear to god, they better use condoms,” she says, shaking her head. She’s not about to welcome a little Smoak-Queen into this world. 

“Then you should probably go put these back in his room,” Robert says, tapping the box in her hand. 

Moira rolls her eyes, but reluctantly agrees. 

Despite how much she hates it, they have very little control over what Oliver does with his life. He’s stubborn and considers himself invincible. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants and all they can do is stand back and help him clean up the messes he creates and hope he learns from them. Pregnancy is not going to be a mess of his that she has to clean up. 

****

When Moira walks into Oliver’s room Tuesday morning, she’s not overly surprised to see that he’s not remotely ready for school. Instead, he’s laying in his bed with a picture frame cradled against his chest, crying. Felicity and Donna left for the airport three hours ago and Oliver is still crying. 

She sits down next to Oliver and opens her arms for him and he comes right to her. 

“She’s really gone,” he cries, shaking his head. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says, finding that she really means it. 

She may never have been overly fond of Felicity, but that doesn’t mean she ever wanted to see Oliver get his heart broken. Not like this. 

“It’s not fair,” he says. “It’s not fair that they had to leave.” 

“Things will be better for them in Vegas,” she says, truly believing that. “Donna won’t have to worry about paying rent and she’ll be able to get her feet under her.” 

“She worked two full time jobs,” he cries. “I don’t understand. How can you work two full time jobs and not be able to pay your rent?” 

Moira doesn’t have an answer to that. Not one that Oliver will understand, at least. So instead she just lays back in bed and runs her hands through his hair as he cries himself back to sleep. 

****

“What did he have to say?” Moira asks when Robert enters the room. 

“Oliver and Tommy were picked up for breaking and entering and underage drinking,” he says, running his hand over his face in frustration. “He’s not going to press charges this time, but this is their final warning.” 

“Was Malcolm there?” she asks. 

“No, I figured it was best if Malcolm wasn’t involved and Brian agreed.”

Moira nods her agreement. Malcolm has a quick temper and Tommy has a way of pushing his buttons. 

“So what did they do this time?” she asks, unsure if she really wants to know. 

“They broke into the planetarium and polished off a bottle of tequila,” he says.

“The planetarium?” She searches her mind for any reason Oliver and Tommy would want to hang out there alone. It wasn’t like they took any girls there to look at the stars and Oliver’s never liked museums. Neither of them have. 

“There was a special exhibit on loan from the National Air and Space Museum,” he says, giving her a pointed look and it all becomes clear. 

“Felicity,” she says with a deep sigh. 

“It’s been almost a year,” Robert says. “I’m not sure he’s actually going to get over this on his own.” 

“Well what are you suggesting?” she asks. He can’t be saying that Oliver needs to see a shrink. They’d never hear the end of it. 

“We have a guest house. There’s really no reason why—” 

Moira can’t help but laugh. “Really? You want Donna Smoak to live here? You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“We could get them an apartment,” he argues. 

“I thought you hated Donna,” she says. “Ever since you tried to sleep with her at the Christmas party two years ago and she turned you down.” 

“I did not,” he says with an air of outrage. 

“Please,” Moira says. “You think I don’t know everything that happens in this house?” 

Robert looks like he’s debating trying to defend himself more, but decides against it. 

“He can’t keep going out and getting drunk. Especially in public places,” he complains. 

“He’s in high school. It’s what they all do,” she says, even though she knows it’s not that simple. 

“When our son does it, it makes the front page and it’s bad for business,” he says. “I honestly don’t know what else to do with him, Moira. His behavior is getting out of control.” 

“And you think Felicity would be able to stop it,” she says in disbelief. “This is what kids do. It’s what you and I used to do when we were younger. It’ll pass.” 

“And in the meantime, we’ll basically be putting the Nudocerdo kids through college with the amount I’ve had to pay to keep Oliver out of jail.” 

****

“Damn, when did Felicity Smoak get hot?” she hears Tommy ask as she walks down the hall. 

Moira peaks her head into Oliver’s room. “I didn’t know you were coming over Tommy. Will you be joining us for dinner?” 

“I can’t, Mrs. Queen,” he says. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Moira.” 

“Sorry, habit,” Tommy says. “I’ve got a date in about an hour. I was just stopping by to get some last minute advice.” 

“Who’s the lucky lady?” she asks. 

“Megan Pike,” he says with a smile. 

“Lieutenant Pike’s daughter?” she says with an easy laugh. “Well I hope you’re wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“He’ll be at work, I confirmed it to be sure,” he says. “I’ll see you later, Ollie!” Tommy says before headed out the door. 

“Good luck!” Oliver says. 

“What were you both looking at?” she asks, stepping further into the room. 

Oliver holds up a stack of photos. “Felicity sent me the pictures she got developed from my trip.” 

Moira reaches out her hand to take a look. The first picture in the stack is of the two of them at a water park. Felicity is wearing a skimpy purple bikini that leaves little to the imagination and Oliver has his arm around her while she hugs his side. While she wouldn’t use Tommy’s words, he wasn’t wrong. Felicity has certainly grown up since Moira saw her last. She’s a lot more… developed. 

She flips through the photos that were sent. There’s one of Felicity in what looks like Oliver’s Starling Prep sweatshirt and a pair of cutoff shorts where she’s sitting in his lap while they roast marshmallows. 

“You were supervised the entire time?” she asks, giving him a knowing look. 

Oliver rolls his eyes and takes the pictures out of her hands. “We’re just friends, Mom.” 

“Yes,” she says, mentally building a time machine so she can refuse to let Oliver go out to Vegas. “Your father and I were just friends at one point in time.” 

“Eww,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “Please don’t tell me these things.” 

“I just want you to remember how heartbroken you were when she left,” Moira says. “It’s not a good idea to fall in love with Felicity Smoak.” 

She highly doubts there’s anything that can be done about it now since that ship has long sailed, but it’s worth mentioning. 

“Mom,” he says with a laugh. “It’s fine. Don’t worry so much.” 

“Your father says that to me whenever he’s about to do something I should worry about.” 

Oliver smirks before headed out the door. “I won’t be home for dinner. The boys are going to watch the girls volleyball game tonight.” 

“And maybe you’ll take an interest in one of those nice girls,” she calls after him. 

“Sure, Mom! Whatever you say!” 

****

“Why did I just get a call from Oliver’s school saying he skipped his Latin and AP History finals today?” Moira asks, walking into Robert’s home office. 

“I don’t know anything about this,” he says, putting the papers he’d been reading down on the desk. “You’ve tried calling him?” 

“His cell phone’s been turned off,” she says. 

“Have you tried Tommy?” 

Moira shakes her head. “Tommy doesn’t know where he is. And no, before you ask, he’s not just covering for Oliver. He really didn’t know.” 

“Excuse me,” Raisa says, interrupting their conversation. 

“Yes?” 

“Ms. Felicity called Mr. Oliver last night,” Raisa says. 

Moira stares at the woman, waiting for the news. Felicity and Oliver talk on the phone most nights, this doesn’t tell her where her son is or why he missed his finals today. 

“She sounded quite upset,” Raisa says. 

“He wouldn’t,” Robert says at the same time that Moira puts the piece together. 

Oliver went to Vegas without their permission. 

“I’m calling Stanley,” he says, picking up the phone. 

Stanley’s been their personal pilot for the last ten years. 

“Thank you Raisa,” she says. Their housekeeper nods and leaves the room. 

Moira waits anxiously for Robert to get off the phone, all the while plotting just how much she’s going to yell at Oliver for this. 

“Oliver didn’t take the jet,” he says once he hangs up. 

“So he didn’t go to Vegas?” she asks, but Robert shakes his head. 

“No, he’s there. He asked Stanley to take him but he refused without our permission.” 

“He deserves a raise,” Moira says. “If he didn’t take the jet then what?” 

Robert gives her a look. 

“No,” she says. “You think he flew commercial?” 

He grumbles a few choice words under his breath before saying, “It wouldn’t be impossible. He’s got enough cash in his pocket to buy a ticket. He wouldn’t even need the credit cards.” 

“What do we do?” she asks. 

“Freeze his credit card accounts and hope he either runs out of money or comes to his senses soon?” he suggests. 

“He has three more finals tomorrow,” she says. “He’s going to fail all of his classes.” 

“I’ll take care of it.” 

“Robert—” 

“I said I’ll take care of it, Moira.” 

“Alright,” she concedes and leaves his office. Moira cannot believe that Felicity would do something like this during the middle of finals week. Doesn’t she care that Oliver will fail and won’t be able to get into any good colleges? 

****

It’s late when Moira walks through the door of her home. Tonight had been the charity gala for Starling General and she’d stayed late to make sure that cleanup process went smoothly and all of the donations got into the right hands as well as the auction items correctly labeled for delivery the next morning. Robert had left several hours earlier due to an early morning conference call with the London office. So when she walks through the door at 1am, she doesn’t expect to see anyone apart from their night shift security. She certainly doesn’t expect to see Tommy Merlyn walking down the stairs. 

“Tommy, it’s a school night, what are you still doing here?” she asks, causing him to jump then immediately look sheepish. 

“I didn’t realize anyone would still be awake,” Tommy says. “I was just leaving.” 

“May I ask what you’re doing here so late?” she asks. 

Tommy looks torn. His eyes go to the stairs before focusing back on her looking helpless. 

“Did something happen?” she asks, growing suspicious. It’s clear that Tommy doesn’t want to tell her what he’s doing here so late, which has her worried. 

“Tommy,” she pleads and his shoulders instantly slump. 

“Oliver found out that Felicity is with somebody and didn’t take it well,” he explains. “I was talking him out of a trip to Boston.” 

Moira sighs deeply. Of course. When have their lives ever  _ not _ revolved around the actions of Felicity Smoak? 

“She’s had boyfriends before,” she says, trying to figure out what makes this time any different from before. 

Tommy looks around the room awkwardly for several moments before he carefully says, “I think this time is more… serious.” 

There’s clearly more to the story that she isn’t being told, but she knows Tommy well enough by now to know that he’s told her all he is willing to. 

“You should get home, your dad will be worried,” she says. 

“My dad’s in Shanghai,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, but she knows that Malcolm’s repeated absence hurts him more than he likes to let on. Not for the first time, Moira wishes Rebecca were still with them. 

She reaches out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then you should stay here. It’s late and the roads will be dark.” 

“Thank you, but I’ll be alright,” he says with a brave smile. “Mariana is expecting me and you know how she worries.” 

She nods her head. The Merlyn’s housekeeper has always treated Tommy like her own. She has no doubt that the woman has waited up for Tommy to come home. 

“At least promise me you’ll stop by for dinner this week,” she says. “I don’t see you enough anymore and you boys will be off to college soon.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Tommy says before giving her a kiss on the cheek and walking out the door. 

Moira takes off her heels before walking up the stairs with aching feet. She enjoys planning charity events, but the long hours playing hostess are murder on her feet. She walks down towards her bedroom and isn’t surprised to see light coming out from under Oliver’s door. After all, Tommy’s only just left. 

She knocks quietly and slowly opens the door to find Oliver lying face down on his bed sobbing. He doesn’t look up. She doubts he even heard her knock. She stands at the doorway for several minutes debating what to do. She wants to go lay down next to him and comfort him. Help him see that things will be alright. However, Felicity has been a touchy subject with them for the past few years and she doubts Oliver would let her comfort him. Not with this. 

She stands there for another few minutes with watery eyes, hating seeing her son so distraught over a girl who doesn’t deserve a single one of his tears. Then she quietly closes the door and heads to her bedroom. 

Robert is asleep when she gets there, so she silently gets herself ready for bed. She’s exhausted, but sleep doesn’t come that night. She lays away thinking about how heartbroken Oliver is and how it’s all Felicity’s fault. 

****

“You must be thrilled,” Caroline says, coming up behind her. 

“About?” Moira asks, taking a sip of her champagne as she watches the happy couple dancing across the floor. 

“Oliver dating Professor Lance’s daughter,” Caroline says. 

“If Oliver is happy, then I’m happy,” she says with a smile, glancing across the room to where Oliver has his arms around Laurel and is whispering into her ear while she laughs. They’ve been together for a month, which is the longest Oliver has dated any single girl. 

“Well we’re all just happy he’s come to his senses and found somebody more worthy of the Queen name,” she says. 

Moira doesn’t need to ask what she’s talking about to know that it’s a dig about his infatuation with Felicity Smoak. 

“They’ve been dating for a month,” Moira says with an easy laugh, refusing to be dragged into a debate on who is and who isn’t worthy of her son. “Let’s not marry him off just yet.” 

“I’m just saying,” Caroline says with a shrug. “Laurel’s a good choice. Her mother is tenured at Starling University. Laurel’s well educated and clearly going places. Word is she’s thinking about applying to law school when she finishes college. And with a police officer for a father, well… It makes it look like you care about the middle class. It’s going to play very well for your family.” 

Moira doesn’t need a lecture on how things play from Caroline Porter of all people. Last year, her husband’s company just barely survived bankruptcy by embezzling money from their clients. The only reason they’ve been able to weather the storm so far is because Caroline started sleeping with the DA to avoid prosecution. The fact that she continues to act like she isn’t when everyone in this room knows the truth is laughable. 

“Thank you for your concern, but my family is doing just fine,” she says before excusing herself to go find Robert. 

“If I have to listen to one more snide remark about how thrilled everyone is that Oliver’s dating Laurel, I’m going to call Page Six and air out all of their dirty laundry,” she says, walking up to her husband at the bar. 

“Weren’t you just telling me how happy  _ you _ were that he started dating Laurel?” Robert asks. 

“I’m his mother, I’m allowed to say it,” she says. “Besides, that’s not what they are really saying. When they talk about Laurel, they’re really commenting about Felicity.” 

“Felicity hasn’t lived in this town for five years,” he says. 

“And yet, she’s still the most popular topic of conversation,” she says. “Are you willing to admit now that I was right about their friendship?” 

“Never,” Robert says, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor. 

“I’m surprised Laurel’s willing to put up with the rumors,” Moira says. “Everyone still thinks he’s in love with her.” 

“Well, isn’t he?” Robert asks, causing her to glare at him. “I’m just saying, he calls Felicity every single night and they talk for at least an hour. Our phone bill is outrageous.” 

“He’s dating Laurel.”

“He’s doing something with Laurel,” Robert says with a laugh. She smacks him on the shoulder.  

“He needs to make sure he doesn’t mess around with her,” Moira says. “She’s a smart girl. She’s not going to put up with his usual stunts and I’d hate to see him lose her.” 

“I’d remind you that Oliver is your son, and he’s whose team you should be on.” 

“I  _ am _ on Oliver’s team,” she says defensively. “He’s not in high school anymore. He needs to start thinking about his future, and Laurel can help him stay on the right track.” 

“So could Felicity,” Robert says, earning him another glare. “I’ll talk to him. Is that what you want me to say?” 

“Oh you’ll talk to him?” she says with a laugh. Like he’s got any moral high ground to stand on. “ _ I’ll  _ talk to him.” 

“Whatever you say dear,” Robert says. 

****

“You told me that you were going to Avery’s bachelor party!” Moira can hear Laurel yelling from her spot in the kitchen where she’d been going over the week’s menu with Raisa. 

She can’t hear Oliver’s side of the conversation, but she can certainly hear Laurel’s. 

“No you didn’t! You saw her!” 

Moira tries her best to ignore the argument that is clearly happening in the living room, but she finds it difficult. 

“Thank you, Raisa, this looks perfect,” Moira says kindly before leaving the kitchen to go see what all the commotion is about. 

If Oliver is going to have an argument with his girlfriend, he should know to move it somewhere more private. While their staff can be trusted not to talk to the papers, Robert is supposed to have some business partners coming over shortly. 

“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting!” Laurel yells. “If it wasn’t a big deal, then you wouldn’t have lied about it.” 

“Laurel, Felicity is my friend. I didn’t tell you that I was going to see her because I knew you would get jealous,” Moira can now hear Oliver as she rounds the corner and can see into the living room. “But she’s just a friend. Calm down.” 

“Calm down?” Laurel scoffs. “Screw you, Oliver. I’ll calm down when you stop spending the night in other women’s beds.” 

Moira leans against the entrance to the living room and crosses her arms, catching Oliver’s eye who has the decency to look sheepish. 

“Why don’t we take this upstairs?” Oliver says, reaching out to grab onto Laurel’s arm but she rips it out of his grasp. 

“Don’t touch me. I’m not going upstairs with you,” Laurel says. “You won’t be able to kiss your way out of this one.” 

“Laurel, please,” he says with a sigh that sounds so similar to Robert whenever Moira confronts him about another one of his interns. This is hardly the man that she raised. She sympathizes with Laurel. It’s not easy being in love with a man that only gives you part of his attention. 

“I’m done,” Laurel says, grabbing her purse off of the couch and storming out of the room. A few seconds later they hear the front door slam. 

“I’m sorry,” Oliver apologizes. 

“It’s not me that you need to apologize to,” Moira says, giving him a pointed look. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose her.” 

“I don’t understand why she’s so upset,” Oliver says, throwing himself down on the couch dramatically. She goes to sit down next to him. “Felicity is just a friend.” 

“Is she?” Moira asks. 

They so rarely talk about this. The days of Oliver mentioning Felicity non-stop are long gone. The only reason Moira knows that they are still friends is their phone bill each month. The two of them talk and text each other several times a day. Her picture is also still on his nightstand where one of Laurel should really be. 

“Felicity has never been anything other than a friend,” he says. She knows that much is true because of the slight hint of disappointment that accompanies the comment.  Oliver and Felicity may only be friends, but it’s not because Oliver wants it that way. 

“Sweetheart,” she says gently, waiting for him to look at her. “I know that you care about Felicity, but you need to look at things realistically. Felicity and you are never going to work out and while you’re pining after a girl that doesn’t deserve you, you are going to lose the best thing that ever happened to you. Laurel is a good girl and she cares about you.” 

“You’ve never liked Felicity,” Oliver says, shaking his head. 

Moira chooses her next words very carefully. Felicity has always been a sore spot for the two of them. 

“I’ve never liked Felicity for  _ you _ ,” she admits. “She’s a nice enough girl, I suppose. Smart, sure. But she can’t give you what you need. All she’s ever done is break your heart.”

“Moving wasn’t her fault,” he says, defensively. 

“And what about those other boys she dated instead of you?” 

“I’ve dated, too,” he says. “We didn’t live in the same state, we weren’t ready for long-distance.” 

“And you are now?” she says, unsure what he’s trying to tell her. 

Oliver shrugs. “I could go to Harvard, instead.” 

“You’d leave Dartmouth?” she asks. 

He makes a face that has her groaning in frustration. “Oliver, you can’t continue to get kicked out of colleges. You are going to destroy your future.” 

“Maybe I don’t want the future you guys have planned for me. Who needs college anyways?” he grumbles. 

“Your father is not going to be happy about this,” she says. 

“He’s never happy with me,” he says with a shrug that breaks her heart. Robert and Oliver have been having a rough time lately. They’ve been getting into more arguments as Oliver pushes back against Robert’s wishes for him to go into business and eventually take over the company. 

“Your father and I love you,” she says. “We just want what’s best for you.” 

“And that means marrying Laurel,” he says, crossing his arms. 

“If you honestly can look at me and tell me that you don’t care for Laurel after dating her for almost a year, then I’ll accept that. But I don’t think that’s true. You’ve been dating her for a year because you know that she’s what’s best for you. That she’ll be able to give you things that Felicity never has been able to give you, no matter how desperately you may want her to.” 

“I’m not good enough for Felicity,” Oliver whispers so quietly that she can barely hear him, but she does and his words infuriate her. 

“That is not true,” she says firmly. “She’s the one that’s not good enough for you. So stop pining after something that isn’t going to work and start focusing on making things with Laurel better.” 

Oliver is quiet for several long minutes before he drops his arms to his sides and his shoulders relax. “I do care about Laurel.” 

“I know you do,” Moira says. 

“I just wish she wasn’t so jealous all of the time.” 

“Then perhaps you should stop giving her a reason to be,” she says, not unkindly before standing up. Robert’s guests will be here any moment and she needs to check that the staff has gotten everything ready. 

****

“Let me get this straight, you got kicked out of Brown after your mother and I had to practically beg them to take you in,” Robert says, just barely containing his temper. “This is the fourth school in three years, Oliver.” 

“I don’t understand why I need to go to college anyway,” Oliver says, defensively. “Our family has plenty of money, it’s not like I need to work for a living.” 

If Oliver keeps this up, Moira’s pretty sure the vein in Robert’s forehead may actually pop. As a man who’s had to work for every penny he has, Robert has never liked the idea of either of their children not having to work for their own money. The only reason Robert even made the two children a trust was because Moira convinced him it was the right thing to do.

“What is your plan?” Moira asks, involving herself before things can escalate any further than they already have. 

“Why do I need a plan?” Oliver says. “I’m twenty years old.” 

“You aren’t a kid anymore,” Robert says. “This was fine when you were in high school, but at a certain point you need to grow up and start taking responsibility for yourself.” 

“You mean start taking responsibly as a Queen,” he says in disgust. “I don’t want to run QC.” 

“No, you just want to party your life away off of the profits of QC,” Robert says. “That’s not how the world works.” 

“Really? When has mom ever worked a day in her life? Her family had money so she lived off her trust before she married you.” 

Robert glares at her like Oliver’s behavior is somehow her fault. She’s never encouraged Oliver to blow off school or work. She’s always taught him the importance of hard work so that he can one day take care of his own family. 

“Oliver, I understand that at twenty years old, taking over Queen Consolidated seems like an overwhelming responsibility. It wouldn’t happen tomorrow. Right now, the only thing we are asking you to do is to stay in one school long enough to get a degree,” she says. 

“And then what?” Oliver says. “After that, you’ll tell me the only thing you expect is an MBA. Then the only thing you expect is a job at QC. Before I know it, I’ll be running the company and I don’t want that.” 

“What do you want?” Robert asks. 

“I don’t know,” Oliver says. “You’ve never given me the space to figure it out.” 

“We need a plan,” Robert says. “A  _ real _ plan.” 

Oliver rolls his eyes, to which Robert actually visibly relaxes. 

“Oliver, we love you. You know that right?” Robert says. 

“You just don’t like me,” Oliver says with a bitter laugh. 

“That’s not true at all,” Robert says. “Your mother and I are just worried about you.” 

“I don’t want to run QC,” Oliver says. 

“Then come up with a valid plan for your life,” Robert says. 

Oliver and Moira look at him in shock. Since Oliver was little, Robert’s talked to him about taking over the company one day. 

“My father ran his own restaurant for years, you know that,” Robert says. “As the oldest son, it was my job to take it over, but that wasn’t my passion. So I started QC instead. If you don’t have the passion for QC, fine. I can understand that. But you need a plan. A very real plan for what you’re going to do with your life, because you aren’t going to be the rich boy living off of daddy’s money. You  _ will _ have a job.” 

Oliver doesn’t say anything for several minutes. Moira starts to ask him what he’s thinking about, but Robert reaches out to touch her arm and shake his head. She remains silent and watches as Oliver stares out the window of their home. 

“I want to go to Boston,” he says. 

Moria rolls her eyes. Chasing after a girl is not a plan. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says. 

“Tommy’s still got a few years before he’s done with undergrad and is planning on staying there for his MBA,” Oliver says. 

“You want to go to Boston for Tommy?” she says doubtfully. 

“Fine, no. It’d be nice to live near Tommy again, but I’d be going for Felicity,” Oliver says. “I know you don’t like her, Mom, but I think we can all agree I’m going to need help if I’m going to ever graduate from school and she’s agreed to tutor me.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Robert says. 

“Well I don’t,” she says. “What about Laurel?” 

“What about her?” Oliver asks. 

“Do you think she’s going to be okay with you moving to Boston?” she asks. 

“It’s not any further than Providence,” he says with a shrug. 

Moira glares at him, he knows that’s not what she means. “Laurel is at Stanford. You could go there. I’m sure she’d help you study.” 

Oliver doesn’t say anything, instead he looks at his dad and the two of them have a silent conversation. 

“If you come to me with a course of study and a career plan, I’ll put a call in to Matt Gomer,” Robert says. “He runs the admission office at Harvard and he owes me a favor.” 

Oliver nods his head and Robert stands up to leave the room. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Moira says. 

“I thought this meeting was about my academic future, not my love life,” Oliver says with a smirk. “Relax, Mom. You worry too much. Laurel and I will be fine.” 

Moira doesn’t say anything. Oliver is too stubborn to listen to her even if she did. However, Moira knows that Laurel will most certainly not be okay with this plan. The last thing she wants is to see him lose the one positive thing he has going in his life. She knows her son, if he’s close to Felicity, he’s going to fall under her spell again and that can only lead to one thing: heartbreak. 

****

Moira waits for Thea to step out of the car before nodding her thanks to the driver. Taking her daughter’s hand, they both walk up the stairs to the townhouse that Oliver now lives in. He’s successfully completed his first semester at Harvard and is three weeks into his second semester. To say they are all proud of him and the turn around he’s had would be an understatement. For once in his life, he actually seems to be taking school seriously. Sure, he’s still showing up in the tabloids on the weekends right alongside Tommy, but the trouble they get up to is reserved for Thursdays through Saturdays. It’s a growth she hadn’t expected to see in her son who’d been running away from any and all responsibility as fast as he could. 

Thea excitedly pushes the doorbell several times before they hear footsteps on the other side and the door opens. 

Moira just barely stops herself from staring at the girl on the other side with her mouth wide open. 

“Felicity!” Thea shouts, wrapping her arms around the girl who’s dressed in all black. “I’ve missed you!” 

Moira doesn’t know what to make of Felicity’s look. Her hair has been dyed black with streaks of purple throughout. Her nose is pierced and she’s wearing what looks like an entire bottle of liquid eyeliner. Her entire stomach is out for the world to see, which seems highly inappropriate given the fact that it’s still winter. If her goal was to look like a future inmate, she’s well on her way. 

“Hey,” Felicity says, giving Thea a quick hug. “I’m late for work, but I promise to stop by later to spend some time with you.”

“Will you paint my nails?” Thea asks. 

“Of course,” she says with a smile. “Oliver’s inside waiting for you.” 

Thea runs past Felicity who turns to look at Moira awkwardly. 

“It’s good to see you Mrs. Queen,” she says, biting her lip and playing with whatever weird symbol she has on her necklace. 

“Does your mother know you’re dressing like this?” Moira asks, unable to hold back her shock. 

The girl in front of her now has zero resemblance to the Barbie doll-like appearance of Donna Smoak. Moira is having a hard time believing that the girl in front of her really is Felicity. Oliver would never be attracted to a girl like this. She looks like some kind of vampire worshiping cult member. 

“My mother stopped picking out my clothes years ago,” Felicity says with too much attitude to be appropriate. 

In her sass, Moira can see the little girl that used to spend the weekends at her house. It seems that none of her time away has taught her any manners. Moira had hoped life at an ivy league would have at least taught her some class, but that was clearly a pipe dream. 

“And you’re going to work like this?” Moira says, eyeing her up and down critically. She can’t imagine any place that would hire somebody who dresses like this. 

Felicity grabs a black leather jacket from the coat rack and puts it on before placing her bag over her shoulder. 

“Like I told Thea, Oliver is waiting for you inside,” she says before walking right past her without so much as a goodbye. 

Moira bites back a remark. It’s not her responsibility to teach Felicity manners. 

Moira walks through the living room to where Thea and Oliver are in the kitchen already laughing together. 

“Mom! Oliver said I can make hot chocolate!” she says excitedly. 

“Well that sounds like fun,” she says with a smile, moving around the island to give her son a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“I hope your flight wasn’t too bad,” he says. “Thea said there was turbulence?” 

“Barely,” Moira says. “You know how your sister likes to exaggerate.” 

“I do not,” Thea claims, going through Oliver’s cabinets to pick out the coffee mug she wants to use. “It was scary. We almost crashed.” 

“Well then, we should celebrate the fact that you’re both still alive,” Oliver says, sending her an amused look over Thea’s head. 

“I saw Felicity on our way in,” she says casually, trying to gage Oliver’s reaction. His shoulders stiffen and he turns away from her to help Thea reach a mug on the top shelf. 

“Oh yeah?”

“She certainly looks… different,” Moira says. 

“Mom,” he says in warning. “Please don’t start.” 

“I’m just surprised is all,” she says. “I can’t imagine you’re thrilled by her new look.” 

The blush that slowly creeps up Oliver’s neck says otherwise. She’s surprised. Judging by the women Oliver’s dated over the years and been seen in the tabloids with, she thought she had his type figured out. He always enjoyed a clean cut girl with just the slightest hint of an edge. He was a typical twenty-one year old. He likes women with tight dresses, natural hair color — typically brunette, and a normal amount of eyeliner. He goes for models, not Ozzy Osbourne worshipers. 

“Felicity is allowed to dress however she wants,” Oliver says. “We’re just friends.” 

“I think Felicity looks pretty,” Thea says.

“Me, too, Speedy,” Oliver says. 

“Do you think she’ll help me put purple in my hair?” Thea asks.  

“No,” Moira says, leaving no room for argument. “You’re perfect just the way you are. She’s not touching your hair.” 

Thea rolls her eyes, but doesn’t argue any further. “I thought you were making me hot chocolate,” she says, playfully pushing Oliver. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “You two go sit down and I’ll get us all drinks.” 

Moira and Thea take a seat at the table where there are books that have been left open. Thea picks one up and looks at the cover. “Cryptography Engineering: Design Principles and Practical Applications?” 

“Those are Felicity’s,” Oliver says.

Moira wants to ask why Felicity would leave her textbooks at Oliver’s house strewn about like she lives here, but is sure that she doesn’t want to know the answer. So instead she changes the topic. 

“How’s Laurel doing?” she asks. 

“She’s stressing out about getting her LSAT scores back,” he says. 

“I’m sure she passed,” Moira says. 

“That’s what I keep telling her, but she’s positive she failed,” he says. “Apparently it’s my fault for taking her to Coast City the weekend before her test.” 

“She can always take it again,” Moira says. 

“That’s also what I said, but she’s going to be annoyed with me until her test results come back.” 

“I thought she was mad at you because you didn’t fly to Stanford last weekend for her birthday,” Thea says, causing Oliver to glare at her. 

“Something I told you in confidence,” he says. “Clearly somebody can’t be trusted with secrets.”

Oliver carries a tray over and places it on the table. He bookmarks Felicity’s books and places them in her backpack before placing a mug in front of each of them. 

“You didn’t see Laurel on her birthday?” Moira asks with a hint of concern. Missing your girlfriend’s birthday was not something that most women took lightly. 

“I had things to do here,” he says, defensively. “I told her I’d make it up to her with a trip to Cabo over President’s Day weekend.” 

“I want to go to Cabo,” Thea says. “Take me with you!” 

“Fat chance, Speedy,” he says. “This weekend is adults only.” 

“You get to do all the fun stuff,” Thea grumbles. 

“You’ll be old enough before you know it,” he says. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.” 

“If you say so,” she says. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get a boyfriend.” 

“That’s fine with me,” Oliver says, causing Thea to smack him. 

“You’ll get a boyfriend in good time,” Moira says. “You’re still young. You’ve got time to grow.” 

“All the girls at school are starting to wear bras and I’m still flat as a board,” she complains. 

“Okay, I demand a new topic of conversation,” Oliver says, groaning loudly. 

“Thea, you’re beautiful. The boys at your school will be falling all over you in a few years,” she says. “You’re young. Listen to your brother, don’t be in a hurry to grow up.” 

“Eleven isn’t that young,” Thea says. “When did you fall in love with Felicity?” 

Oliver’s about to take a sip of his mug when he freezes at Thea’s words. He stares at Thea opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he struggles to find something to say. 

Moira could pretend to be shocked by Thea’s comment, but she’s not. She’s known Oliver is in love with Felicity for years. She probably knew before he even realized it. She doesn’t have to like it, but she’s not so blind as to deny it. 

“I’m dating Laurel,” is all that he says before placing his mug down on the table and claiming he’s going to go upstairs to shower before they go out for dinner. 

****

When Moira opens her front door, she’s confused to see Laurel on the other side. 

“Laurel, Oliver’s in Boston,” she informs the girl. 

“He’s actually flying home to visit,” she says. “He told me I should wait for him here?” 

Moira nods her head. She’s heard none of these plans, but that doesn’t surprise her. Oliver doesn’t tend to plan things in advance and he rarely informs her of his whereabouts these days. 

“Very well,” she says with a smile as she opens the door wide enough for Laurel to step inside. “Can I get you anything while you wait?” 

Laurel shakes her head. “No thank you, Mrs. Queen. I think I’ll just go upstairs and try to sneak in some last minute studying before Oliver gets here.” 

“When do you take your LSATs?” Moira asks. She knows that Laurel is nervous about the test after she failed it last year and had to delay starting law school an entire semester. Oliver and her had a big blow up over it and the entire family had heard every word. 

“In three weeks,” she says with a blush. “I’m sure I’ll pass it this time. I’ve been a lot more serious with my studies.” 

“I’m sure you will, too,” Moira says with a smile. “Why don’t you head up to Oliver’s room. I’ll send him up when he arrives.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Queen,” she says kindly before headed upstairs. 

Moira has always had a soft spot for Laurel. She’s a smart girl with excellent manners. She’s perfect for Oliver, if only he would start treating her better. She worries that one of these days he’s going to mess up badly enough that Laurel won’t take him back. 

Moira walks to Robert’s study where he’s currently working. She notices that he’s staring at The List again. 

“Apparently, Oliver is coming home,” she says, hoping to cheer him up. He’s been in an awful mood ever since he found out about Malcolm’s plan for the Glades. She knows that he’s planning on doing something to stop Malcolm, but he won’t give her any of the details. 

“He is?” Robert asks, putting the List down and looking up at her. 

“Laurel said he asked her to meet him here,” she says with a smile. 

“Well you must be thrilled,” he says. “Both of your children home under one roof?” 

“It’ll be a short trip,” she says. “He still has class.” 

“Who would have thought Oliver would ever make it to a third semester at school?” he says. “He’s matured a lot over the last year.” 

Robert gives her a pointed look that has her rolling her eyes. 

“If you’re about to tell me ‘I told you so,’ you can keep it to yourself,” she says. 

“Alright,” he says with a laugh, holding out his arms for her to step into. She sits down on his lap as he nuzzles into her neck. 

“Do you have to go out on the Gambit?” she says. 

“I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone,” he says. 

“Taking the yacht to China isn’t exactly an ‘I’ll be back before you realize I’m gone’ situation,” she says. 

“I have to take care of this,” he says. “We can’t let Malcolm level the Glades.” 

“And how is a trip on the Gambit going to stop him?” she asks. 

“The less you know, the better,” he says, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting his head against her shoulder. 

The two of them have been a lot more affectionate over the last few days. With Robert’s confession and Moira’s unwavering support, they are closer than they’ve been since before Thea was born. She feels like she’s getting her husband back, and the last thing she wants to do now is send him out to sea for weeks. She hates that boat as it is. 

“What if something happens to you?” she says. 

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he promises. “Listen, when I get back, why don’t we plan a trip, just to two of us?” 

“That sounds nice,” she says with a smile. 

“Hello?!” Oliver’s voice carries through the entire downstairs as they hear the front door slam closed. 

Moira stands up and goes to greet her son in the foyer. 

“Well this is a wonderful surprise,” she says, pulling him in for a hug. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” 

“I didn’t know until last night,” he says. “Laurel convinced me I was overdue for a visit.” 

“Well we’re happy to have you home,” Robert says, clapping Oliver on the back. 

“Ollie!” Thea yells, running down the stairs and straight into his arms. “I’ve missed you!” 

“I’ve missed you too, Speedy,” he says, giving her a tight squeeze. 

“Is Laurel here?” Oliver asks. “I asked her to meet me here.” 

“She’s upstairs waiting for you,” Moira says. 

When he heads for the stairs, she calls after him. “Don’t spend all your time with her, your family would like to see you as well.” 

“Brunch tomorrow,” he promises. 

“I’ll make sure Raisa makes your favorite,” she says. 

“It’ll be nice to have a meal with everyone before I take off,” Robert says. 

Oliver pauses on the stairs and looks back at his dad. “Have you decided when you’re leaving yet?” 

“Tuesday,” he says. 

Oliver nods his head before heading upstairs. 

“Are you sure you have to go?” Thea whines, causing Moira to smile. If she can’t convince Robert to stay home with his family, Thea probably can. Thea has had the Queen men wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. 

****

Moira is downstairs eating the oreo cookies she keeps hidden in the back of the pantry when she first hears it. There’s somebody knocking around outside. She feels alarmed at first, before she remembers that they have state of the art security and several night guards protecting the property. Nobody is on the property that isn’t supposed to be. 

Wondering if perhaps they’ve got another raccoon rummaging through their trash, Moira flips on the outdoor lights and opens the door to the patio. She’s surprised to see Oliver kicking around the patio furniture, clearly drunk. 

“Oliver?” she says, surprised. “Aren’t you supposed to be back at school by now?” 

It was her understanding that he was going to be taking the jet back to Boston this morning. 

“Mom?” he says, sounding confused. “What doing… What are doing… What are you doing up?” he says, his speech is slurred and his eyes are glossed over. She’s not sure she’s ever seen him this intoxicated. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says, pulling up a chair and helping him sit down before he can hurt himself. She then sits next to him. “I’m worrying about your father going out on that stupid boat.” 

Oliver doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to for her to figure out that something is seriously wrong with him. His eyes are watering more than she can explain away by booze or drugs. He looks like he’s about to cry. 

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” she asks. 

Oliver shakes his head repeatedly before moving to stand, but she grabs his arm to stop him. 

“You can tell me, Sweetheart,” she says. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.” 

“I know… with Laurel… you wanthat,” he says. “I donknow.” 

She struggles to understand him with how much he’s slurring his speech, but she can put enough pieces together. He’s upset over Laurel. 

“You don’t want to move in with her,” Moira says, understanding immediately what’s going on. 

Laurel had mentioned at brunch that they were going to start looking at condos together. Moira had been thrilled with the news. She had been Oliver’s age when she’d met Robert and more than anything she wants her son to be ready to settle down and start thinking about a family of his own. But not if his reaction is this. 

“Do you love Laurel?” she asks, trying to gauge if his reaction is the normal amount of cold feet that most men get with such a big step in the relationship, or if he’s genuinely not willing to take this step with Laurel. 

Oliver rubs his face in frustration before looking up at her. He shrugs and looks completely helpless. Her heart breaks to see him like this. She pulls him into her arms. 

“I thought I did,” he says, crying into her shoulder. “But…” 

Whatever he says next is completely unintelligible. 

“Shh,” she tries to sooth him as she runs her fingers through his hair. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“I ruined...” he sobs. “Never gon talk to me again.”

“I’m sure Laurel will talk to you,” she says. “She loves you. Just explain to her that you’re scared. That you don’t know if you’re ready yet.” 

Oliver shakes his head. “Don’t get it.” 

She tries to figure out what it is that she’s not getting. 

“Cooper died,” he says. 

Moira doesn’t know who Cooper is or what his death has to do with Laurel and Oliver moving in together, but she’s only ever seen him this upset a handful of times in his life and it’s always been about the same thing. 

She’d be willing to bet money on the fact that Oliver doesn’t know if he wants to move in with Laurel because something has happened with Felicity. 

“Oliver, Sweetheart,” she says, pulling him away from her so that she can look him in the eyes. “Who’s Cooper?” 

Oliver shakes his head and stumbles to his feet. “Bed.” 

She wants to ask him more. She wants to find out exactly what had happened to lead him to drink more than she’s ever seen him drink before, but with the way he’s barely standing on his feet and the way his eyelids are drooping, she doesn’t think she’ll get anything else out of him tonight. 

She’ll talk to him in the morning, once he’s sobered up. After she’s seen Robert off at the pier. 

****

Moira stands in front of the mirror as she applies concealer under her eyes to cover up the dark circles that have appeared after a night of little to no sleep. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about with Robert leaving on his trip across the ocean, now she has Oliver’s troubles weighing heavily on her. 

“Have you seen my reading glasses?” Robert asks, as he moves around their bedroom packing up some last minute things. 

“On the dining room table where you left them last night,” she says without looking up from the mirror. 

He leaves the room to go grab his glasses and she puts the finishing touches on her makeup. She puts her earrings in and stands up to grab her shoes. 

“Found them,” Robert says, walking back into the room. 

“You know, Oliver didn’t fly back to Boston,” she says as she grabs Robert’s deodorant out of the bathroom and places it in his bag with a pointed look. She swears, she doesn’t know what he’d ever do without her. He’d forget his head if it wasn’t attached. 

“Didn’t he have class yesterday?” he asks, concerned. 

“I thought he did,” she says. “Maybe his classes were cancelled? Or… He was really upset last night. More upset that I’m used to seeing him. Whatever is going on probably had him skipping class. I think it has to do with him moving in with Laurel.” 

“You think he’s getting cold feet?” he asks. 

“He told me he wasn’t sure,” she says. “But he was also incredibly drunk. More drunk than usual. I think there’s more to the story that he wasn’t telling me.” 

“Well, talk to him again today, once he’s sobered up,” he says. 

“I just don’t want him imploding his entire relationship with Laurel over something silly,” she says, sighing deeply. 

Robert wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. “Something or someone?” 

“He only ever gets this upset about her,” she says. 

“Felicity is in a committed relationship,” Robert says. “She’s been dating Cooper for awhile now. Oliver knows that.” 

“Cooper is Felicity’s boyfriend?” she asks, her heart dropping at the name. 

“Yeah?” 

“Oliver told me last night Cooper died. I didn’t know who Cooper was,” she says. 

“Oh god,” Robert says. “Poor Felicity. Oliver said they were really serious.” 

“You don’t think… He’s not getting cold feet about Laurel because Felicity is single again,” Moira says, even though she knows that’s exactly what’s happening. She knows her son all too well. “Her boyfriend  _ just _ died.” 

Robert lets out a heavy breath. “You can try talking to him, but you and I both know that he won’t talk to you about her.” 

“Because he thinks I hate her,” she says with a roll of her eyes. 

“Don’t you?” Robert says with a chuckle. 

“I don’t hate anybody,” she says. “I just don’t think she’s a good fit for Oliver. All she’s ever done is break his heart. Laurel is a much better match.” 

“Because your friends approve of her,” he says. 

Moira doesn’t comment on that. There are many reasons why Felicity isn’t a good fit for Oliver. The fact that Felicity doesn’t fit into their world is only one of those reasons. 

“If he honestly didn’t care about Laurel, I wouldn’t push her at him so hard,” Moira says. “I don’t want him to live in a loveless marriage.” 

“I know,” he says, zipping up his bag. “You just want what's best for him. You always have.” 

“Oliver always leaps before he looks. He goes into everything with his whole heart. I don’t want to see him get crushed again,” she says. “I hate seeing him cry. He hasn’t even done anything with Felicity yet and already he’s crying over her.” 

“He was crying last night?” he asks. 

She nods her head and follows Robert out of the room as they make their way downstairs so they can head out to the pier. 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” he asks as he helps her into the car. 

“You’re on your way out of town,” she comments. “Are you offering to cancel your trip?” she asks hopefully. 

“Not cancel,” he says. “I have to go.”

“I’ll figure out what to do with Oliver,” she says as Robert starts the car and they head off towards the pier. “It’ll be fine.” 

“He’s a good kid,” he says. “He’ll do the right thing.” 

“So you think he’ll move in with Laurel?” she asks. 

“I think he’ll figure out what the right move for himself is and do it,” he says. “We can’t decide whether that’s Laurel or Felicity. He needs to answer that question for himself.” 

Moira knows that Robert is right, even if she doesn’t like it. She has her own opinions about what the best decision is for her son, but Oliver is well aware of her opinion of the situation. He’s going to do whatever he wants to do, just like he’s always done. Oliver is stubborn just like his father. His refusal to back down under pressure is what is going to make him a great leader one day. But right now? That quality is much more obnoxious. 

“If Felicity hurts him again, I will make that girl’s life a living hell,” Moira says.

“Moira,” he says looking at her in pure shock. “That doesn’t sound like you.” 

“I’ve watched Oliver moon over her for years. You and I both know that he’s going to chose Felicity. I just pray she doesn’t do what she always does and break his heart, because I won’t be able to reign in my temper this time.” 

“Moira Dearden Queen, what would your mother say?” he teases her. 

“She’d say a temper is unbecoming of a lady,” she says. “But my mother lost her temper more than enough whenever one of her children were threatened. She’d understand.” 

They spend the rest of the drive to the pier debating on vacation spots that they can travel to when Robert returns from China. Robert wants tropical, but Moira really wants to get back to Paris to see the museums and recreate their honeymoon. 

They arrive at the pier and Moira follows Robert out to where the Gambit is docked as slowly as she can, wanting to delay their goodbye as long as possible. She can see Dennis, Robert’s first mate on the deck already getting things set up to leave. She knows that the rest of the crew is likely onboard getting things ready as well. 

When they are standing in front of the Gambit, Robert turns around to look at her. She instantly starts to panic internally. She has such a bad feeling and she can’t shake it. She knows that he’s trained as is his crew. They are more than capable of making a trip like this. They’ve done it before. Still, she doesn’t want him to go. She’s worried that something will happen. 

“Robert, I don’t like the idea of this,” she says, knowing he’s unlikely to change his mind since she’s already asked him to multiple times, but she has to at least try one more time. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says kindly, without the slightest hint of annoyance. He reaches out to run his fingers through her hair and rub her shoulder comfortingly. 

“Well, how long will you be gone?” she asks, hating herself for sounding so desperate, but she feels like she’s only just gotten him back after years of feeling like she was living with a stranger. Now that they’ve grown close again, she doesn’t want to leave him. 

“A few weeks,” he answers patiently, even though she’s asked this question before and knows the answer. “Maybe more, depending on weather.” 

“Why can’t you just fly to China?” 

Robert chuckles and reaches out to squeeze her hand in reassurance. “I think it’s better the less you know.” 

“I just hate that stupid boat,” she says. 

She always has. And she hates it even more now that it’s taking her husband away from her for several weeks so that he can go deal with this insane plan of Malcolm’s to level the Glades. Honestly, this entire situation is still unreal to her. 

“Look at me,” he says. When she meets his eyes, he says. “I love you.” 

It’s the first time he’s said that to her in years. She wants to cry with happiness, but him saying it as he’s getting ready to leave her is bittersweet. 

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he says as he pulls her closer. 

“I know,” she says. 

He’s about to give her a goodbye kiss when Oliver calls out. “Hey! Got room for one more?” 

Moira turns around to look at him and is honestly surprised to see him not only awake, but looking as alert as he is considering the amount of alcohol he consumed last night. 

Then his words register in her mind and she instantly denies him. “No. No. No.” 

“Mom, let me keep dad company,” he says. 

“Oliver, you’re in school,” she says, trying to reason with him. 

“Not really,” he says nonchalantly. 

Moira sighs deeply. She wants to be upset with him for getting kicked out of school again, but she’s also worried about how upset he’d been the night before. She won’t yell until she knows what is going on with him. She’s worried that it’s more than just moving in with Laurel and Felicity being single again. 

“I forgot to tell you that,” Oliver says, looking at his dad sheepishly with that boyish charm that always thaws her anger. 

“I could use an extra hand on the ship,” Robert says. 

“Robert!” she chastises him. 

Finding out that Oliver is no longer in school on top of everything else they’d already been worried about? They need to get to the bottom of what’s going on and sending him out on a several week vacation is not the answer. 

“Moira…” he says giving her a pointed look. “Let the kid take the boat out with the old man.” 

He watches her carefully, silently communicating with her. She can see where he’s coming from. If they let Oliver join Robert, it’ll give Oliver some much needed time and space to think. Hopefully, he’ll use that time to come up with a life plan and figure out the right thing to do rather than acting before thinking like he always does. 

Besides, if Oliver goes on this trip with Robert, it’ll give Robert some time to talk with him. Oliver is much more likely to open up to Robert about what is going on than her given how little Oliver likes to talk to Moira about Felicity. 

“Alright! Alright,” she agrees reluctantly. “But you promise me that you’ll behave yourself.” 

“Oh yeah. I promise,” Oliver says before giving her a hug. 

It does give her a bit of relief knowing that Oliver will be there to keep an eye on Robert. However, she still can’t shake the worry that she feels. Then again, it’s a wife and mother’s job to worry. 

“I love you so much,” she says to him. 

“I love you, too.” 

Oliver pulls away from her and steps away from them to call Tommy. 

“This will be good for him,” Robert reassures her. 

“I hope so,” she says. “I can’t believe he got kicked out of Harvard. He was doing so well.” 

“I’ll figure it out,” he says. “In the meantime, try not to worry.” 

Moira scoffs at that. As if it’s even possible. 

“We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “Just think of all the girl time Thea and you will be able to have while we’re gone.” 

Moira nods and gives him a hug and a lingering kiss goodbye. “I’ll start planning for Paris.” 

“I can’t wait,” Robert says. 

Oliver walks back over to his parents and Moira gives each of them one last hug goodbye before they board the Gambit. She stands there patiently as they get everything in order to leave. She doesn’t head back home until after the Gambit disappears from her view, the gut feeling that something isn’t right won’t leave her, but there’s nothing she can do about it now but trust that Robert can take care of himself and would never let anything happen to Oliver. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so humbled by the positive response that the last chapter got. I never thought people would willingly read a Moira PoV fic, but you guys were willing to go on this ride with me and I deeply appreciate it. 
> 
> For those of you that have asked, this is a fic about Moira's very long journey towards acceptance. So you have to hit rock bottom before you can start to turn things around. And that's where we are at for the time being. I promise, if you stick with this to the end, you'll appreciate the growth to come.
> 
> This chapter takes place between October 2007 and October of 2012. A complete timeline of this series can be found here  
> ([Home Verse Timeline](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13304013))

Moira hangs up the phone with trembling hands as she tries to remember how to breathe. 

Just because they are lost at sea doesn’t mean they are dead. There are any number of reasons why the coast guard cannot find them. Sure, there may have been a storm, but their crew is highly trained and the Queen’s Gambit is a substantial yacht that can withstand a lot. 

They aren’t dead. 

It’s not possible. 

“Mom?” Thea comes into her room rubbing her eyes. “Who’s calling so late?” 

She doesn’t know what to tell her daughter. Saying it would make it too real and right now even thinking it is sending her into a nervous breakdown. 

She just shakes her head. “Go back to sleep,” she tells her.

It’s three in the morning and a school night. Thea needs her sleep. 

“What’s wrong?” Thea asks, stepping further into the room. 

Again, she shakes her head. She can’t talk about this. Not yet. She has to be strong for Thea. She has to protect her. 

“It’s nothing dear,” she says with a smile. “Go back to bed. We’ve both got early mornings tomorrow.” 

Thea doesn’t look like she believes her, but she doesn’t ask any more questions. She turns and heads back out the door. The second it clicks shut, Moira bursts into tears. 

It would have been bad enough to get news that her husband is lost at sea, but it’s not just Robert. Oliver is out there, too. Her precious baby boy. She never should have let him get on that boat. 

She picks up her phone and calls her father. He still has military connections from his time fighting in WWII. He’ll know who to call to fix this. He’ll know how to find Oliver and Robert. 

****

“Moira,” Malcolm says, looking shocked when he steps into foyer and sees a maid helping her with her jacket. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

Moira gives a half hearted smile at the maid, signalling both her thanks and that the woman should give them privacy. The woman takes the hint and heads back down the long hall towards the kitchen. 

She takes a deep breath before turning to Malcolm. “They’re gone,” she whispers, unable to speak any louder due to the lump in her throat. 

“I’m sorry? Who’s gone?” he asks, moving closer to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Moira shakes her head as she begins to sob uncontrollably. The Coast Guard contacted her again to inform her that The Gambit has yet to be found and they are starting to suspect it capsized during the storm and sank. They believe her husband and son may be dead. 

Malcolm directs her into the sitting room and helps her sit down on the couch before pulling her into his arms and holding her close. The contact feels weird. They’ve had very carefully constructed boundaries over the last 13 years, ever since ending their affair. Moira has gone out of her way not to find herself in Malcolm’s arms again. She’d much rather be in Robert’s arms right now, but her husband may never come back to her. 

That thought brings a fresh wave of tears. 

“Shhh,” Malcolm says, rubbing comforting circles on her back. “Whatever it is, we can fix it. Just talk to me.” 

“Robert took Oliver out on the Gambit,” she says, her words nearly incoherent through her sobs. “A storm hit… They’re gone.” 

“What?” Malcolm says, pulling away to look at her. “Oliver was on the boat with Robert?” 

Moira thinks it’s weird that  _ that _ is what he’s focusing on in everything she says, but people react weird to grief so she doesn’t spend much time on it. 

“What am I going to do?” she cries. “The Coast Guard can’t find them… They can’t be… I can’t lose them both.” 

“Shh,” Malcolm says, pulling her back into his arms. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m right here. You’ll get through this.” 

Moira doesn’t know how that’s possible. 

****

Moira hasn’t left her bed for days. Not since she got news that the Coast Guard, while not closing the case, is no longer actively investigating. They’d spent weeks looking for any sign of the Gambit and found none. They’d scanned the waters and all nearby islands for any signs of survivors and found nothing. As far as the Coast Guard is concerned, Robert and Oliver Queen died at sea. 

Her father has hired private investigators to look into the case, but she has little hope. If the Coast Guard can’t find them it’s unlikely anyone else will be able to. 

In one night, Moira became a widow and lost her only son. Thea lost both her father and her brother. She doesn’t know how to survive this. She’s always considered herself a strong woman, but this has broken her. Her grief is so severe that most days, she can’t do anything but cry. She wants so badly to take their place. She’d always been aware that she could lose Robert one day. He’s five years older than her and has a cholesterol problem. 

_ Had _ a cholesterol problem… He’s gone. 

She’d been prepared for this to happen one day… In the distant future. But she’d never thought she’d ever have to bury her son. Parents aren’t supposed to bury their children. She literally feels like her heart has been ripped out of her body. Most days it feels like an elephant is sitting on her chest making it impossible to breathe. 

She can’t survive this. 

She doesn’t want to. 

****

“Sweetheart, there’s something you need to know,” her father tells her quietly, careful not to be overheard by Thea and her mother in the next room. 

“What?” she asks, scared of that look in his eyes. 

She’s about to give her bad news. That’s his bad news face. She digs her nails into her palms and forces herself to remain composed. Whatever it is, she can survive it. After all, she’s managed to pull herself out of bed the last four days, hasn’t she? She’s slowly learning how to live with her new normal. A normal where Robert and Oliver are gone. She can survive anything. 

He hands her a manila envelope. She takes a deep breath, willing her hands to be steady as she takes the envelope from him and opens it. She slides the papers out and gasps at the first picture. 

There’s a slightly blurred image of the Gambit at the bottom of the ocean floor. 

Moira stumbles backwards until her legs hit the back of a chair and she falls into it. 

“No,” she shakes her head. 

Knowing that they are gone and seeing firsthand proof of it are entirely different things. She can’t handle this. She doesn’t want to see this.

She shoves the envelope back into her father’s hands and continues to shake her head. 

“No, no, no,” she says through the tears. 

“Moira, look at me,” her father says sternly. 

She takes a steadying breath before meeting his eyes. 

“The team I hired don’t think the ship sank because of the storm,” he whispers. 

“I don’t understand,” she says. 

“They think it was sabotaged,” he says, eyes scanning to room to make sure they aren’t being overheard. 

“What? No. That can’t be right,” she says, unable to process his words. “Who would want to hurt them? No. There was a storm.” 

“Moira,” he says in that no nonsense tone of his. “I need you to tell me if you want us to salvage the boat or not.” 

She continues to shake her head. She doesn’t understand anything he’s saying. 

“Sweetheart, if we don’t salvage the yacht, we won’t be able to find out who did this or why,” he says. 

“Did they find—” 

She cuts herself off. She can’t finish the question because there’s no way she’ll be strong enough to hear the answer. As long as Robert and Oliver’s body’s haven’t been found, she can pretend they are still alive. That they are living on some island somewhere learning how to fish and make fire, waiting for the day somebody rescues them and brings them home to her. 

She can’t find out otherwise. That sliver of hope is the only thing that’s keeping her alive at the moment. That, and the responsibility she feels towards Thea to make sure she doesn’t loose the only family she has left. 

“They found some bodies, but they won’t know for sure until they run tests,” he says, reaching out to hold her. 

The entire room tilts on it’s axis and she’s suddenly struggling to breathe. 

****

Moira stands in front of what remains of the Queen’s Gambit fuming. She’s only half listening to the man next to her as he explains that they’ve been unable to trace the bombs placed on the yacht back to any culprit. She doesn’t need proof. She knows exactly who did this. She should have known from the beginning. 

Robert had told her that he was afraid of Malcolm finding out what Frank and he were up to. He was afraid of what Malcolm might do. After all, a man who’s talking about leveling the Glades entirely without stopping to evacuate it first isn’t the kind of man you trust. 

God. She’s cried on Malcolm’s shoulder more than once about how much she misses Robert and Oliver. And all the while, he’s been the one responsible for their death. 

Moira is going to murder him. 

She’s going to actually murder him. 

Who cares if she goes to prison? Her life ended the moment her husband and child were killed. 

Jesus Christ. Malcolm was supposed to be their friend. She’d slept with him! He’s Thea’s father. 

The thought makes her want to vomit. She can only thank god she never left Robert for the man, or that she never told him that he’s Thea’s real father. 

No. Not real father. 

Robert is her real father. He’s the one that raised her. He’s the one that loved her unconditionally. He’s the one that took care of her. 

And in the end, Robert is the one that stood up for what was right and risked his life in order to save the Glades. 

God. Why did he have to be a damn hero? And why in the hell had he let Oliver step foot on that boat when he knew how crazy Malcolm was? Had Malcom been following them? How could he have possibly known about Robert’s plan to buy up the remaining property in the Glades to stop Malcolm from leveling it? 

She’s going to murder him. 

“Thank you, Mr. Godfrey, that will be all,” she says dismissively. She hands him an envelope full of cash and waits for him to leave the warehouse where she’s storing the Gambit until she can figure out how to use it to bring down Malcolm. 

Once the door shuts behind him and she’s alone, she walks around the damaged yacht growing more and more angry by the second. The yacht is in three pieces, thanks to the strategically placed bombs onboard that guaranteed the yacht would split. From her spot, she can see into the state room. She can see the bed she’d shared numerous times with her husband. The one he used to make love to her on as a way to calm her nerves about being out at sea. 

One level up, she can see into the room Oliver always claimed as his own. She’s sure that’s where he’d been, entertaining Sara, when the bomb had gone off. The split would have happened right there, pulling them directly into the water. According to the specialists she’s hired, with the brutal combination of the bomb, the force of the boat sinking, and the raging storm, the chances that Oliver even made it to the surface before drowning are somewhere around 15%. When she’d tried to reason that they hadn’t found his body at the ocean floor, they’d reminded her that any number of things could have happened, including the current bringing him further away or a sea animal getting hold of him.  

Looking at this boat, she knows that Robert and Oliver are truly gone. There’s no way they survived this. 

So all she’s left with is pure, unbridled rage. 

She’s going to put Malcolm Merlyn in the ground if it’s the last thing she does. 

****

“I promise, Thea,” she says into the phone. “I’ll only be gone a few days. You’ll barely miss me.” 

“You’re going to miss the play,” she complains. 

“Raisa will go, she’ll record it for me,” Moira explains, trying to sound upbeat when all she really wants to do is cry. She feels awful for not being home, but Thea can’t see her like this. 

“Whatever,” Thea grumbles before hanging up on her. 

Moira hangs up the phone and stares at her reflection in the hotel mirror. She barely recognizes the woman she sees staring back at her. There is a dark bruise on her cheek that’s starting to swell. She can clearly see the handprint on her neck from where Malcolm had nearly crushed her windpipe. It still hurts to swollow. 

She’d been naive to confront him. She’d been even more naive to do so with a gun in her hand. She should have shot first, before he’d even realized she was there. She hadn’t expected him to be so strong. She still doesn’t know where he learned to fight like that. 

She can still see the pure rage in his eyes as he yelled at her. Her hands tremble as she hears his threats echo in her brain. 

He’s going to kill Thea. If she doesn’t comply with the Undertaking, he’s going to take the only family she has left. 

She doesn’t have a choice. She could go to the police, but she knows Malcolm has the entire city in his back pocket. She could talk to the press. She’s sure they’d love to print pictures of her face all black and blue, especially once she tells them that Malcolm had done it. However, it’s his word against hers. And quite frankly, she’s not sure anyone will believe her. And even if they would, what could she do to protect herself from him? 

He’s already proven how completely crazy he is and how far he’s willing to go with how easily he killed both of her bodyguards. 

One of them had been an ex-Navy Seal and Malcolm had taken him out like it was nothing. 

She rubs at her bruised wrists, trying to figure out how she’d know if they’re broken? Everytime she tries to move them, the pain is blinding. More than anything, she wants to curl up in her own bed and cry herself to sleep, but she can’t go home. Thea can’t see her like this. 

She needs to stay here until her bruising has gone down enough to cover with makeup. She has to trust that Malcolm will keep his word. 

If Moria helps him, then he’ll leave her family alone. 

She can do this. For Thea, she’ll do anything. 

****

Moira stares blankly ahead at the two empty caskets. Thea sits at her left, clutching onto her hand so hard it’s likely to leave bruises. Walter sits to her right, a silent but strong support. When they’d started talking about having a funeral for Robert and Oliver, she’d been reluctant. She’d still hoped they’d turn up somewhere and come home to her. But when she’d uncovered the harsh reality that the Gambit had been sabotaged in Malcolm’s plan to murder her husband, that hope was lost and she’d finally agreed that a funeral was appropriate. 

Even without bodies to bury, everyone needs the kind of closure that only a funeral can bring. A grave will give their loved ones a place to mourn. 

When she started preparing herself emotionally for this day a week ago, she’d expected to be a crying mess. In fact, all morning while getting ready, she’d been sobbing constantly. But now that the moment is finally here, she doesn’t feel much of anything. She’s numb. Everything feels like it’s happening a million miles away from her. Perhaps it’s the three benzos she took. 

It’s okay. Thea is crying enough for the both of them. She wants to comfort her daughter, but she doesn’t know the right words to say. Ever since she found out that Robert and Oliver were murdered, she’s been overwhelmed with guilt. She doesn’t know how to be around Thea without drowning in the knowledge that she played a part in taking her daughter’s family away. That she is the reason that Malcolm Merlyn has painted a target on Thea’s back. 

It’s fine. Thea doesn’t need her. She has Tommy to cry on. Tommy, who has been here all week and been taking care of them both. He’s been a real rock. It’s amazing that a man raised by the devil could be so kind and considerate. A testament to what an amazing woman Rebecca was that her son could be raised by Satan himself and still turn out so great. 

Time blurs from one moment to the next as she walks through the motions barely registering anything around her. She shakes the hands of people that come up to her, but she doesn’t process any of their faces. Walter guides her, never leaving her side, and it’s the only reason she makes it through the funeral and now the reception. 

At one point, Malcolm comes up to gives his condolences and it takes everything in her not to claw his eyes out and scream for all of their friends and family to hear, “Murderer!” It’s only the glimpse of Thea hugging Robert’s sister that keeps her from acting out. After all, she knows Malcolm will follow through on his threats to kill Thea if Moria ever says a word. 

At another point, she swears she sees Felicity with Tommy, but she assumes she must be seeing things. After all, Felicity isn’t blonde. The last time she’d seen her she’d looked like that Marilyn Manson guy. And considering Moira is fairly certain the breakdown Oliver had that led to him getting on the Gambit had something to do with Felicity, she hardly thinks it would be appropriate for Felicity to show up today of all days. She certainly hadn’t been invited. 

“You did good today,” Walter says, walking her over to the foot of the stairs. 

She blinks rapidly and looks around, surprised to see that most of their guests are gone and the only people left are close friends and family that have stuck around to help the cleaning crew wrap things up. 

“It’s over?” she asks. 

“Yes,” he says. “It’s over.” 

The words hit her harder than she thinks they should. He’s clearly talking about the reception, but all she can think about is how Oliver and Robert’s lives are over. There are two headstones in the backyard with their names on them. 

Her life as she once knew it is gone. 

****

She stands on the sidewalk staring up at the townhouse that Oliver used to live in, unable to go inside. Moira knows it’s time for her to clean out the property and sell it, but she can’t bring herself to take the steps to the home where her son had lived. 

Oliver had loved this place. Moira had loved it, too. They’d both fallen in love with it when they’d been looking for places in Boston so Oliver could start school. It was what brought them to the decision to buy rather than rent like they’d done his previous places. Robert thought it would be a good investment. 

Now it’s just a memory of everything she lost and she needs to get rid of it. 

If she’s ever going to move on, she needs to sell this place. 

“Hey!” Tommy says, stepping out the front door and coming to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you made it! Felicity and I started to pack some things up that we thought you’d like to keep.” 

“Felicity’s inside?” she asks, her stomach churning at the girl’s name. As if she’s not feeling awful enough, she really doesn’t want to face the woman who’s the reason Oliver got on the Gambit in the first place. If he hadn’t been confused about his feelings for Felicity, he wouldn’t have run away from Laurel so far and so fast. He’d still be alive. 

“Come on,” he says, placing an arm around her shoulders and walking her up the stairs and into the property. 

The downstairs looks exactly like she remembers it, apart from the moving boxes stacked up in the living room. A strong memory hits her of the last time she was here visiting Oliver. It brings tears to her eyes. If she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine that Oliver’s just in the other room pouring her a glass of wine. 

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” Tommy says. “We can hire movers. Felicity and I can pack up his personal items.” 

Moira shakes her head, that’s not what she wants. 

“You don’t have to sell this place at all,” he offers. “It’s not like you need the money. You can keep it until you’re more ready to sell.” 

“I’ll never be ready,” she says. “But this is something I need to do if I’m ever going to move on.” 

Tommy nods his head in understanding and she reaches out to squeeze his hand. He’s been so good about taking care of her. She really does appreciate it. She knows Tommy misses Oliver almost as much as she does. This can’t be easy for him either. 

“Do you want some space?” Tommy asks. “I figured you’d want to start on the bedroom. I’ve already packed up some stuff in there, but there are some frames and stuff you may want to go through.” 

She nods her head. Yes. Some space would be nice. She’s feeling like she can’t breathe, and that isn’t going to go away as long as Tommy is staring at her like that and waiting on her to lose it. She needs to be alone. 

“I’ll just get started on the kitchen,” he says. “Call me if you need anything.” 

She nods her head and starts up the stairs. She can hear somebody moving around in the guest bedroom and she assumes that must be Felicity. She peeks her head into the room and is shocked to see a pile of what can only be Felicity's clothes on the bed. None of the girls Oliver used to take home would ever wear quite so much black. 

She pushes the door open and steps inside to get a better look. There’s a box on the bed labeled Goodwill and another one labeled Tommy’s. 

“Have you been living here?” she asks, outraged because she already knows the answer. 

“What?” Felicity turns around at the sound of her voice, startled, and trips over a box, falling to the ground with a loud thud. “Ow! Jesus Christ! That hurt!” 

“Have you be living here?” she repeats, feeling her blood start to boil. How dare she take advantage like this! Her son is dead and Felicity took that as a sign that she should just move in? 

“What? No,” Felicity says, trying to untangle herself from a pile of sweaters. “Not since—” 

“Don’t lie to me,” Moira cuts her off. “I knew I was right about you. You and your mother. I always tried to tell Oliver he shouldn’t trust every pretty face that comes his way. I warned him that girls like you were only with him for his money—” 

“Excuse you!” Felicity says, scrambling to her feet and nearly falling over again as she trips on yet another box. “I was not with Oliver for his money. I wasn’t ever  _ with _ Oliver at all!” 

“Oh that was made perfectly clear! You didn’t care that he loved you, you just lead him on and broke his heart!” 

Felicity sputters at that, unable to respond. Moira crosses her arms and looks down her nose at the girl. 

“I’m not living here,” Felicity says finally. Moira notes she makes zero comment about the fact that she knowingly broke Oliver’s heart. 

“Why are all of your things here then?” she asks, her hands clenched in fists as she reminds herself that a lady never resorts to violence. 

“What is going on?” Tommy comes running into the room and steps between them with what she assumes he thinks is an easygoing smile, but she can see the stress on his face. 

“That little gold digger has been living here,” Moira says, pointing an angry finger at Felicity. 

“She hasn’t,” Tommy says. “Not since Oliver… She’s been living with me. She just never got around to cleaning out her things.” 

“You’ve been living with Tommy?!” Moira yells, chuckling humorlessly. “What, my son is gone for a few months and you immediately find the next rich boy you can manipulate! Unbelieveable!” 

“I’m not manipulating Tommy!” Felicity yells. “And I never manipulated your son! I don’t care about their money.” 

“Oh no? Then why don’t you have your own apartment?” she glares. 

“Because Tommy won’t let me!” Felicity argues. “He thinks I’ll jump off a roof or something if I’m left alone for too long.” 

“I don’t think you’ll jump off a roof,” Tommy says with a deep sigh as he rubs his temples. “Listen, it’s an emotional day for all of us. Why don’t we table this conversation for later. Felicity, keep packing. Moria, why don’t I help you with Oliver’s room?” 

“Thank you, Thomas,” she says shortly. “But I’m fine.” 

She turns on her heel and walks out of the room towards the master bedroom where she immediately closes and locks the door behind her. 

She will never understand what it is about that girl that has every man rushing to defend her so quickly. Can’t Tommy see how incredibly disrespectful and wrong it is for her to be here? This is a family matter. Tommy knew it would be an emotional day for her. Why would he bring Felicity here? 

She moves to Oliver’s bed and sits down, pulling the pillow to her face to see if it still smells like him. It doesn’t. If anything, it smells like a woman’s perfume. She tosses the pillow aside, not wanting to think too long and hard about why that is. She stands up as well, not knowing when the last time the sheets were washed. Sure, they’ve paid a cleaning crew to come in every other day to maintain the place, but if the pillow still smells clearly they haven’t been doing their job. She’d fire them, but with them selling the place, there’s really no point. 

Her eyes go to his nightstand where there is an empty frame. She recognizes it as the one that used to sit on his nightstand at home. The one that held a picture of Felicity and him from middle school. She wonders where the picture went. 

Maybe Felicity stole it. She wouldn’t put it past her. She’s probably already been slowly stealing other, way more valuable things to pawn. 

She grabs a box and some tape and puts it together before moving to the nightstand to clean out his drawers. Tommy said he’d already cleaned out a few things, and so she’s confident she won’t stumble upon anything she’d rather not see… Like porn. Or sex toys. Or women’s underwear. 

In the top drawer, she finds his journal, the one he never wanted anyone to know he kept. She stands up and places it in her purse. She doesn’t know if she’s emotionally ready to read it at the moment, or ever. However, she knows that it’s probably the most personal thing she’ll find in this home and doesn’t want it put in a box that will end up going into storage somewhere. 

She finds a book,  _ On the Road _ , and notices that the bookmark is near the end. She opens it up to find that he only had three more chapters to go until he’d finished. He’d died never knowing the ending. 

She wipes the tears from her eyes. The amount of things Oliver never got to do is endless, and never fails to rip out her heart. Twenty-two is far too young to die. 

Several hours later, she’s packed up all of his personal things to ship back to Starling and sorted through his closet for things she wants to keep, give to friends, or donate to charity. With his room nearly empty aside from the furniture, she allows herself to slide down the wall and cry. She never imagined she’d be here. Anytime she ever pictured cleaning out this place, it was because he had graduated from school and was moving back home to take a position at QC. 

None of that is ever going to happen, though. Oliver’s gone. Malcolm killed him. Moira killed him when she allowed him to get on that boat. She killed him when she pressured Robert to do the right thing. Felicity killed him when she seduced Oliver and then pushed him away. 

A knock on the door startles her. 

“Everything okay in there?” Tommy says. 

Moira wipes her nose on her sleeve, taking a rare moment to be less than civilized, before calling out, “I’m fine.” 

She hears a key slide into the lock before Tommy opens the door and looks down at her sadly. He moves to join her on the floor and pulls her into his arms. 

“I miss him, too,” Tommy says, his voice wet with unshed tears. “Everyday.” 

“Sometimes, I like to pretend he’s still alive. That he’s just off at school and will be back during break. But being here… It makes it more real,” she says. 

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees.

The two of them sit there in silence together for several long minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually Tommy knocks his shoulder into hers. 

“Hey, why don’t we get ourselves cleaned up and go out,” he says. 

Moira chuckles. “I’m hardly at an age where I’d willingly step foot in the places you like to frequent.” 

Tommy laughs at that. “Fair. Though I do think you’d be surprised at the head’s you could turn,” he says with his ever flirtatious smile. “But I more meant dinner. There’s a nice place that Ollie and I used to love. I haven’t been able to go back since… But I know he would have liked to bring you there someday.” 

Moira nods. She could eat. 

“What do you say? Will you be my date for the night?” he asks. 

“What about Felicity?” she asks, bitterly. 

“She went home about an hour ago,” Tommy admits. “I think all of this was a bit much for her. I should probably of just hired a mover for her, but she insisted.” 

Moira rolls her eyes, not really wanting to talk about Felicity’s grief. There’s no way that girl feels even a fraction of the pain that Moira feels. 

“I know you think she didn’t care about Ollie, or that she was only with him for his money—” 

“I’m going to cut you off right there, Thomas,” she says, sternly. “If you’re about to try and tell me that Felicity cared about Oliver, I don’t want to hear it. She’s the reason he’s dead.” 

Tommy sucks in a sharp breath. “Please tell me that you didn’t tell Felicity that,” he says. 

“Why would it matter?” she says, standing up and brushing off her pants. 

Tommy rubs at his face, much like Oliver used to whenever he was stressed. 

“She already blames herself enough as it is,” Tommy says. “She really doesn’t need any of us validating this insane idea that Ollie only got on the boat because Felicity didn’t tell him she loved him back.” 

Moira gasped, “Oliver told her he loved her and she didn’t say it back?” 

Suddenly Oliver drunkenly crying about how he ruined it the night before he got on the Gambit makes sense. She’d only assumed it was about Felicity based on what he’d said about Cooper being dead and not wanting to move in with Laurel. Now she knows that’s exactly what happened. He got on the Gambit because he found out Felicity didn’t love him. 

“Uh…” Tommy looks at her awkwardly. “You didn’t know that part, did you?” 

“That little bitch,” she says, rage boiling over. 

“Moira!” Tommy gasps, looking at her in shock. She gets it. He’s probably never heard her swear before. She can’t remember the last time she did. 

“She is not welcome in our home ever again,” she says. “And if you’re smart, you’d kick her out as well before she’s the death of you.” 

With that Moira storms out of the house, eager to get back home and far away from the woman who killed her son. She’s so eager to get away that she doesn’t even stop to hail a cab, she walks all the way back to her hotel. With how angry she is, she needs the fresh air to try and calm her down. Her therapist told her that she needs to start exercising more. That the endorphins it would bring could help her start to crawl her way out of the depression she’s found herself in. 

She’s spent the past few months wallowing in guilt over Robert and Oliver’s death. Wishing she could turn back time and stop herself from ever convincing Robert to do the right thing. And while that guilt may always be there, she no longer has to blame herself for Oliver’s death. She knows exactly who’s to blame for him getting on the Gambit: Felicity. 

****

_ Felicity kissed me last night. I’m still not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it’s everything I’ve wanted since middle school. On the other hand, Tommy is right. She’s only just lost Cooper. I’m probably just a rebound for her. She can’t love me the way I love her.  _

_ Except, now I can’t stop thinking about it. Now that I know what her lips feel like against mine and what it’s like to have her that way, I can’t forget it. I want her so badly. I think I should tell her. I should just take a leap. If I never ask, I’ll never know if we could ever be something more. And I want to be something more. I’m so tired of going back and forth with Laurel. She’s never going to be Felicity.  _

_ Tommy thinks I need to wait until she’s had more time to heal. I don’t want to, but he’s usually right about these kind of things.  _

Moira sighs as she reads the entry. It’s wasn’t written that long before Oliver got on the Gambit, and it’s the last entry in the journal. She wonders what convinced Oliver to actually admit his feelings for Felicity. Why he hadn’t listened to Tommy’s advice. Maybe if he had, she’d still have her son. 

She thought reading his journal would make her feel better. That it would bring her closer to him, somehow. It doesn’t. Oliver’s still gone and she’s still miserable. If anything, reading the journal accomplished nothing except to make her dislike of Felicity grow. For the several months of Oliver’s life, his journal entries were filled with despair. Felicity had started dating Cooper and stopped talking to Oliver. In his grief, he’d started drinking more and doing more drugs. He’d gotten himself expelled from the first school he’d been able to last at longer than a year. His life had been a mess and she’d been nowhere to be found. 

For somebody that claims to have been a friend of Oliver’s, she’d certainly dropped him quickly the second she’d found another boy to sink her teeth into. 

Oliver deserved so much better than a girl like Felicity. 

****

Moira and Walter step off the elevator and are immediately greeted with the sounds of a string quartet. Walter reaches out to take her hand and she gives him a warm smile. They’ve been dating for a little over 6 weeks, but now that they’ve finally told Thea about it and have her blessing, they’ve been a lot more willing to be affectionate in public. 

Which is for the best. She’s going to need his support to survive this night. 

Tonight is Abigail Thompson and Gavin Foster’s engagement party and since the Foster’s have been close family friends of theirs for years and Ryan Foster is a member of QC’s board, they’re required to put in an appearance. Moira’s spent the last year avoiding as many of these events as she can. However, she knows she can’t continue avoiding them forever. Her grief has excused her absence until now, but she won’t be able to use that excuse forever. Her friends have already started to give her a hard time anytime she sends back an RSVP with a polite “will not be attending.” 

The acceptable period of mourning is over and she’s going to have to start putting herself back out in the world. 

It’s awful. She’d rather be at home in bed. She just knows at some point in the evening some tactless moron is going to inevitably bring up Robert or Oliver. Walter has promised to help her navigate that so she doesn’t embarrass herself by bursting into tears or going on an angry tirade. And the second they’ve made their rounds and it’s socially acceptable to leave, Walter promised her they will. 

He hands her a glass of champagne when a waiter walks past with a tray and she gives him a grateful smile. She’s going to need some liquid courage tonight. 

They spend the evening making small talk as they work their way around the room. There’s still another hour before they can get away with calling it a night, and she’s already longing to pull her pajamas on and curl up with an old movie. 

“So you’re the girl who’s moved in with Tommy Merlyn, lucky you,” Moria overhears someone say behind her and she turns around to see who it is. 

She nearly drops her glass at the sight of Felicity Smoak. Moira didn’t know she’d moved back to Starling. Or that she’d moved in with Tommy. They’d had him over for dinner two nights ago, he’d mentioned his new roommate, but she’d just assumed it was a male friend of his. Never in a million years would she have expected he’d move in with Felicity. She thought they’d talked about this back when he was still living in Boston. She thought he’d understood what a poor decision spending time with Felicity would be for him. 

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Felicity says with a smile, pushing up her glasses awkwardly. “We’re just friends.” 

“I bet,” the girl she’s talking to says with a laugh. 

“No, really. Tommy and I aren’t dating. He’s single. Totally single. In fact, he brings girls home all the time,” Felicity babbles on without any regard to how she’s making herself and Tommy look. 

Really, Moira had assumed she’d grow out of this awkward babbling. She’d assumed some time at a school like MIT would have taught her some grace. Clearly she was wrong. 

At least she looks more put together than she usually does in a fitted blue dress and more natural looking makeup than she used to wear.  The blonde is a nice touch. Especially if she’s trying to seduce Tommy now. He’s always preferred blondes. She’s also gotten rid of the nose ring, which is a pleasant surprise. But still, no amount of stylish dresses or makeup will ever hide that mouth of hers.  

“I mean, not  _ all _ the time,” Felicity says with an awkward laugh, throwing her hands out and nearly hitting a waiter passing by. “Not like he’s a man whore or anything. Because he’s not. Sex is a healthy thing and just because he has plenty of it doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. It’s natural. He’s a good guy. Really… I’m going to stop talking now.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” Moira intervenes before Felicity can continue to make a fool out of Tommy. There’s really no saving  _ her _ at this point. 

The woman Felicity had been talking to looks grateful for the interruption and makes an excuse to walk away, leaving the two of them standing alone. 

“Mrs. Queen, hi,” Felicity says with a nervous laugh. “How have you been?” 

“Do you really think it’s appropriate to tell strangers about Tommy’s sex life?” Moira says, looking down her nose at the girl as she tries to figure out what she’s even doing here anyways. 

“I know, I didn’t mean to,” she says. “It just kind of… slipped out.” 

“Of course,” she says with condescending smile. “Like it just slipped out the time you told my family I was pregnant with Thea. Or the time you accidently told a room full of my closest friends at our holiday party that you liked it on top. These things happen to us all.” 

Felicity blushes a deep scarlet and her eyes go straight to the floor. 

“I’m still  _ so _ sorry about that,” she says. 

“So you’ve moved in with Tommy,” Moira says. “You’d think you’d have learned your lesson after killing my son, but I guess not.” 

Felicity’s eyes fly up to meet hers. “I… He… We…” 

“A lady should learn how to speak in complete sentences. If you aren’t careful, people will know you’re nothing more than trailer trash,” Moira says taking a step closer to Felicity so that they won’t be overheard by anyone walking past. “You may have everyone else fooled, but I see right through you. You will never belong in this world.” 

Felicity makes a weird choking sound and takes a step back from her and begins anxiously scanning the room, clearly looking for an escape route. Her eyes land on something and Moira follows her gaze. Tommy is in the middle of what looks like a rather intimate conversation with a leggy blonde. If Moria’s not mistaken, it’s Chance Reinman's daughter. A much more appropriate choice than Felicity. 

Moira is about to comment as much when Walter steps up next to her and places a gentle hand on her back. 

“Moira, there you are,” Walter says. “Miss Smoak, how are you?” 

“Mr. Steele, it’s good to see you again,” Felicity says, looking relieved. “You know… I just remembered that I forgot to do something at work. I’ll see you both around. Enjoy the party.” 

Felicity doesn’t wait for a farewell, she turns on her heels and leaves abruptly, practically running out of the party. And a good forty minutes before it’s socially acceptable to do so. Really, you’d think with the amount of high society events she’s wormed her way into over the years, she’d have learned some decorum. 

“Shall we dance?” Walter asks, holding his hand out to her. 

Either he hadn’t sensed the tension between Felicity and her, or he’s choosing to ignore it. She’s glad for that. She doesn’t want to spend another thought on Felicity Smoak. She just wants to enjoy her nice evening out with her boyfriend and try not to think about the girl who helped destroy her entire world. 

****

Moira is walking through Macy’s with Vanessa, her personal shopper, in tow as she looks for some outfits to give Thea for Christmas when she hears it. 

“Do they have anything tighter?” the vaguely familiar voice asks. “This one doesn’t show off enough curves.” 

“Mom, if it gets any tighter, I won’t be able to breathe,” Felicity says. 

Moira rolls her eyes as she looks towards the fitting rooms and sees Felicity arguing with Donna Smoak. Felicity is wearing a form fitting pink dress that is way too short to be appropriate. Not that Donna would ever say so. The older woman still dresses like she’s 25 years old, wearing what can’t even be classified as a dress. If Donna Smoak didn’t buy it in a lingerie section of a Walmart somewhere, Moira would be shocked. 

“You know, I’m suddenly feeling like this isn’t the store for me,” Moira tells Vanessa. 

“Are you sure? There are a lot of adorable dresses over here that I know Thea would love,” Vanessa says. 

“No thank you, I’d like to go somewhere with a bit more class,” Moira says loudly, causing both Donna and Felicity to look over her way. Felicity immediately starts to blush and tries to pull her mom back into the dressing rooms while Donna seems like she’s about to come over and say hello. 

“Let’s go,” Moira says, turning on her heel and walking out as Vanessa has to run to keep up with her. 

Moira wouldn’t be shocked if Felicity had asked her mom to help her find a dress to trap Tommy. She’s warned him not to sleep with Felicity. She’s worried that he might with the way he’s constantly bringing her to various events with him. It’s a bad move. Girls like that are always looking to get knocked up by somebody rich. The list of women that still contact their family claiming to have fathered either Robert’s or Oliver’s child is embarrassingly long. She wouldn’t put it past Felicity to do something sneaky like pretend to be on the pill or poke holes in Tommy’s condom just to guarantee a spot in his life of luxury. 

The last thing this world needs is for Felicity to have Tommy’s baby. Then they’ll never get rid of her. 

****

“I finished the invite list,” Thea says, handing her several pieces of paper before sitting down for breakfast. 

Moira takes a sip of her coffee as she looks over the names on the list. Thea has invited all of her class as well as several juniors and seniors. In addition to that, there are close family friends, as well as some other names she doesn’t recognize and will have to ask Thea about later. She’s not about to invite any of Thea’s dealers to this party. She has a hard enough time keeping Thea clean without giving them open invitations to her house. 

She turns to the last page and smiles when she sees Tommy’s name. However, she’s not nearly as amused at the name that comes afterwards. 

“Absolutely not,” Moira says, handing Thea the invite list back. 

“What?” Thea asks, immediately raising her voice. “Why? Who?” 

“Felicity Smoak is not welcome in my house,” she says sternly. 

“It’s  _ my _ birthday,” Thea argues. “I can invite whoever I want.” 

“It may be your birthday, but this party is being thrown with my money, so I get final approval on all things,” Moira says. “And Felicity is not invited.” 

“I don’t understand why you have such a problem with her,” Thea says. “She’s one of the only ties to Oliver we have left.” 

“Because she’s the reason why your brother is dead,” Moira says, slamming her coffee mug back down on the table. 

“What?” Thea asks, her eyes getting wide. 

“I don’t want you seeing Felicity,” she says. 

“I don’t,” Thea says. “Not really. I mean, apart from random events here and there. I don’t understand.... Oliver died at sea. How is that Felicity’s fault?” 

Moira stands up and places her napkin on the table. 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she says, walking out of the room. 

“Of course not!” Thea yells after her with a cruel laugh. “You never want to talk about anything!” 

Moira ignores her and continues up the stairs to her bedroom, grateful when Thea doesn’t follow after her. 

Felicity already killed Oliver and has moved on to Tommy. She isn’t going to lose Thea to her as well. 

****

She traces the letters of Oliver’s name as she sits in front of his grave. Sometimes, she likes to come out here when she can’t sleep. It helps her feel closer to her son. It also helps to remind her of why she’s continuing to go along with Malcolm’s plans to level the Glades. She has no intention of adding another grave to the property. 

Earlier this evening, Malcolm had come over to tell her that he’d met with his associate in Russia and would be getting the information on Unidac Industries that he was looking for. Moira has done her best to slow down the Undertaking as best she can without putting her family at risk, but she doesn’t think, after today, there’s going to be much she can do to stop it. 

Malcolm believes, within a year, that they’ll be ready to comsense the Undertaking. 

The thought of all those people losing their lives makes her sick and is the reason she can’t sleep. 

“I need you to know, everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done for this family,” she says, continuing to trace Oliver’s name. “I don’t know if you’re up there… A part of me hopes you’re not. That you can’t see the person I’ve become… But if you are, I need you to know that I never wanted this. All I ever wanted was my family, happy and whole.” 

She wipes a tear away before cuddling into the blanket she’s wrapped in. “I have to protect your sister. She’s all I have left. Please understand.” 

She sits there, staring at Oliver and Robert’s graves for awhile longer. She must be out there for quite some time, because when Walter finally comes out to join her and hands her a cup of tea, her hands are nearly frozen from the cold. 

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Walter says gently. “It’s too cold. Come back inside.” 

Moira shakes her head and she can hear her husband’s annoyed sigh, but he doesn’t leave. Nor does he argue with her further. Instead he wraps another blanket around her and then pulls her into his arms. 

“I miss Robert, too,” Walter says. “I know it’s not the same. But I miss my best friend.” 

Moira nods. It’s not the same, but it’s nice to know sometimes that she’s not the only person mourning the loss of Robert. 

“Oliver would be nearly 27,” she says sadly. “I sometimes wonder what he’d be like if he were still with us. I wonder if he ever would have settled down. If he’d have grown out of his party boy ways and eventually finish school. Come work for QC.” 

“He was a good boy,” Walter says. “He got into trouble in his youth, but he would have grown out of it and become an amazing man. Just like Robert.” 

“Yeah,” she says with tear filled eyes. “I would have liked to see the man he became.” 

Walter doesn’t say anything. Nothing he could say would make her feel better. Instead he pulls her in closer and places a kiss to the top of her head and she snuggles into his arms. 

It’s selfish, she sometimes thinks. It’s wrong of her to take comfort in Walter’s arms. After all, there’s so many reasons why she doesn’t deserve to. Walter has no idea about her involvement with Malcolm and his insane plan to level half the city. Then there’s the betrayal she sometimes feels towards Robert for moving on with his best friend. And the guilt. The thought that she doesn’t deserve to be happy when her husband and child are at the bottom of the ocean somewhere, never to be found. 

But in the long list of sins she’s committed, this is hardly the worst. And Walter is the only reason she makes it through most days, so she cuddles into his arms and selfishly takes all the comfort he’s willing to offer. 

****

Moira is running late, which rarely ever happens. However, she’d spent way too much time at the police station this afternoon with her lawyer getting Thea’s latest charge taken off her record. She’d rushed home as fast as she could and was met with an angry Thea that spent an hour yelling at her about how much she hates her. Overall, the day has not gone as Moira originally planned. 

Thus, she’s running late. Walter has already called twice to ask her where she is and if she thinks she’ll make it there by dinner. They’ve been placed at one of the tables near the stage and it will be noticeable if she doesn't show up. 

She’s grabbing her shawl and purse when the phone rings. She seriously considers not answering it and running out the door, but she decides to pick up in case it’s Walter again checking in. 

“Hello?” she says, expecting to hear her husband on the other line chiding her for how long it takes her to get ready. 

When nobody says anything, she gets annoyed. 

“Hello?” she repeats herself. “Who is this?” 

“Mom?” the voice on the other end of the line says. “It’s… It’s Oliver.” 

Her blood starts to boil as she takes several deep breathes. It’s never easy to hear Oliver’s name, especially when she’s not prepared for it. So to think that some stranger is not just calling to mention her dead son, but to pretend to be him? It’s low and it fills her with rage. 

“My son has been dead for five years,” she says, forcing down her anger and her pain as best she can so that this asshole won’t hear how much he’s affected her. “Please, don’t call here again.” 

They are lucky she’s in a rush to get out the door. As it is, she’s going to have her security team track down the source of the call and they’ll have hell to pay. 

She goes to hang up the phone, but she hears, “Mom, Mom? Please, just listen to my voice.” 

The person on the other line sounds so broken and sad… and so familiar. 

It can’t be. She’s finally lost her mind, right? Oliver is dead. He died five years ago. 

She should hang up the phone. The rational side of her brain knows this, yet, her body doesn’t move. She stands there frozen, hanging on this guy’s every shaky breath. There’s that tiny part of her that’s always wondered… what if? They never did find Oliver or Robert’s bodies and even though she knows the possibility of them having survived is next to zero, she’d always had that little bit of hope. 

It’s that hope that keeps her from hanging up the phone when she probably should. 

“It’s Oliver.” 

He’s crying, and at this point she knows it’s him. It’s her son. The air in the room leaves and she struggles to take in a breath. 

“I did not die on the Gambit,” he says. “I’m alive. I’m okay.” 

She sucks in a deep breath, trying to get oxygen to her brain while she processes the fact that this is him. It has to be. She remembers his voice and this is it. You can’t fake that. 

“Oliver?” she says. “Oliver, is that you?” 

“Yeah, Mom, it’s me,” he says. “Just please, don’t hang up, okay?” 

She has to sit down before she passes out from the shock. 

“Oh no. No, no, no. I won’t,” she says quickly, so overwhelmed and worried that any second she’s going to lose this somehow. She can’t believe it. How is this possible? “Oh, my beautiful boy…” 

It’s a miracle. An honest to god miracle. 

“Is—” she’s almost scared to ask, but she needs to know. “Is your father a-alive?” she says through as sob. 

Oliver pauses on the other end of the line and she knows what his answer is going to be. 

“No,” he says. 

She chokes down a sob. She doesn’t want Oliver to hear her cry. He’s going to need her to be strong right now. She can’t imagine what he’s been through… and all alone at that. 

“No,” Oliver says, and he sounds so incredibly sad. She just wants to pull him into her arms and never let him go again. “He— He and, uh — Sara didn’t make it.” 

She nods, even though Oliver can’t see her. What can she say? What words are there to make him feel better? She knows the pain of losing Robert. She experienced it firsthand. There are no words. Her poor, poor boy. She can’t even fathom… Where has he been all these years? What has happened to him that he’s only just now calling? 

There are so many questions. 

“Oliver… Sweetheart, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Where are you?” 

She’s going to go get him. She needs to be holding him in her arms right now. She needs to see his face to know this is real and not some vivid dream. She’ll go get him. That she can do. This she can fix. 

“I— I’m not entirely sure, but I’m—” 

Her heart breaks at his words. He has no idea where he is. How is she supposed to find him if he doesn’t know where he is? 

“I’m— I’m on a boat. I love you and… And I’m coming home. Okay?” he says. 

Those words are music to her ears. It’s everything she ever wanted and gave up hope of ever getting. Her son is coming home to her. 

“Ohh! I love you!” she cries out. 

It’s been so long since she’s been able to tell him that. Over the years, she’s started to forget things. The sound of his laugh. The feeling of his arms wrapping around her in a warm hug. One of the things she’s been struggling to remember lately is the last time she told him she loved him. 

She regrets not saying it more. She regrets not saying it every chance she got. She won’t make that mistake again. 

“Oh Oliver,” she says. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too,” he cries, sounding relieved. “I… I have to go…” 

“No!” she says quickly, terrified he’s about to hang up on her. She can’t say goodbye. Not yet. She only just got him back. 

“The phone doesn’t have much battery left on it,” he explains. “But I promise… I promise, Mom, I’ll call as soon as I reach land.” 

Reach land. He’s still on a boat. He’s out there in the water where anything could happen to him. Her heart freezes in fear. 

“Please don’t go,” she cries. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you!” she says desperately. 

“Give Thea a hug and a kiss for me,” he says. 

“I will,” she promises. “My beautiful boy!” 

She still can’t wrap her mind around the fact that this is real. She’s really talking to her son. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says and it claws at her heart painfully. 

He’s been out there this whole time. He’s been waiting to come home and she’d stopped looking for him. 

“Oh Oliver!” she says through another sob. 

“I’ll call you soon.” 

“Please,” she begs, not wanting him to hang up. She can’t lose this connection. Not right now. Not while she doesn’t even know where he is. What if something happens to him again? How will she know where to find him? 

“I love you,” Oliver says. “I’m coming home. Just… Just please be there.” 

“Of course,” she says. “There’s nowhere else I’d be. Please… Please don’t let anything happen to you before you come back to me.” 

“I promise,” he says. 

And with that, Oliver says his goodbyes and hangs up the phone, leaving her to break down into complete sobs. 

“Gesh, Mom, relax,” Thea says, walking into the room. “It was just a minor possession charge. It’s hardly the worst scandal this family has ever had to deal with.” 

“Thea,” she sobs, standing up and pulling her daughter in for a hug. 

“Okay…” Thea says, awkwardly patting her on the back. “Did you take something? Because it’s hypocritical for you to lecture me if you’re going to get high.” 

“He’s alive,” she says through her tears. 

“What?” Thea says. 

“Oliver…” she says and Thea stiffens in her arms. “He’s alive.” 

“Okay,” Thea says, pulling away from her. “Now I know you’re high.” 

“He called,” she says, needing her to understand. “He’s coming home.” 

“If you say so,” Thea says, pulling away with a roll of her eyes. 

“Thea, I’m being serious, look at me,” she says, grabbing her shoulders and meeting her eyes. “Oliver just called.” 

“How do you know it was him?” she asks. “You know we’ve been scammed before. Tommy got kidnapped that time he thought Oliver was in Hong Kong.” 

“I know the sound of my son’s voice,” Moira argues. 

Thea stares at her, studying her face closely before her expression starts to shift. 

“He’s alive?” she whispers. Moira nods, continuing to cry. Thea runs back over to the phone and picks it up. “And you hung up on him?! Why didn’t you keep him on the line so that I could talk to him!” 

“He had to go. The phone he was using was loosing battery. But Thea… he’s coming home,” she says, smiling through her tears. 

Thea shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t understand. Where has he been? Was Dad with him?” 

Moira hates the look of hope on her little girl’s face. She doesn’t want to take it away from her, but she has to know the truth. She shakes her head. The words won’t come, but Thea understands all the same. She gasps before starting to cry. 

“But Oliver? He’s… He’s alive?” Thea says through sobs of her own. 

“He’s coming home to us,” she says. 

Both of them fall into the couch and hold each other while they cry for what must be hours. At some point Walter comes home and hears the wonderful news and he celebrates with them for a little bit, before leaving the two of them alone to process the news that Oliver is alive. 

“We should probably call Tommy and Felicity,” Thea says, wiping her eyes as she moves to stand up. The sun is just starting to rise, signalling a new day. 

A new day where her son is alive. 

It’s a beautiful start. So beautiful that she doesn’t even stop Thea as she picks up the phone to call Tommy and Felicity. She’s sure her hatred will be back later. Likely soon because Oliver is going to want to see Felicity and Moira isn’t even sure that Felicity will care now that she’s got Tommy. But she isn’t going to let that girl bring her down. Not today. 

Oliver is alive. Life is good again. 

Her beautiful boy is finally coming home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are life!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave this fic a chance and came along on this journey with me! I hope that the ending is satisfying and you get all of the moments and answers you've been looking for!
> 
> This chapter takes place between October 2012 and April 2014. A complete timeline of this series can be found here  
> ([Home Verse Timeline](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13304013))

Moira stands outside of the hospital room watching. Waiting. Oliver’s back is to her as he stares out the window. She can’t see his face like she wants. Like she desperately needs. She wants to go inside and wrap her arms around him and never let go, but Dr. Lamb had asked to speak with her first. 

Even though she knows it’s rude not to look at him while he talks, she can barely take her eyes off of Oliver. She’s too scared that he’s somehow going to slip away from her again. 

“Twenty percent of his body is covered in scar tissue,” Dr. Lamb explains. “Second degree burns on his back and arms. X-rays show at least twelve fractures that never properly healed.” 

She tries to process everything he’s saying. She knows Oliver has been gone for a long time and that time will have done a number on him. But she can’t reconcile her beautiful son with this damaged man the doctor is describing to her. 

“Has he said anything about what happened?” she asks, turning to look at the doctor. 

“No, he’s barely said anything,” he answers. 

She turns back to look at her son and tries to picture it. Tries to imagine what life must have been like for him on that island all alone for five years. She can’t. The Oliver she remembers never even liked camping growing up, and that was with a luxury camper. How had he survived all that time alone? 

“Moira, I’d like you to prepare yourself,” Dr. Lamb says. “The Oliver you lost might not be the one they found.” 

She hears the words, but she doesn’t believe them. She trust Dr. Lamb. He’s been the family doctor for years and there’s a reason. He’s one of the most well renowned doctors in the state. But he’s wrong here. Oliver is back. He’s home. He might need some time to adjust, but her son is back.

Her heart won’t accept anything else. 

Having waited long enough, she opens the door to the room. Oliver doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t move a single muscle to acknowledge that she’s there. If she hadn’t talked to him on the phone several times over the last week as they worked to get him back stateside, she would wonder if he’d lost his hearing. She needs him to turn around. She needs to see his face to know this is real. 

“Oliver?” she says his name tentatively, almost scared to talk. She still feels like any moment the rug is going to be pulled out from under her and she’s going to lose this. 

Oliver finally turns around so that she can see his face. His beautiful, unscarred face. He looks exactly the same, minus the fresh haircut and scruff. Five years might have changed a lot for them, but he’s still her son. Dr. Lamb doesn’t know what he’s talking about. 

Moira looks into his eyes and she can still read his every emotion just like always. He’s scared. He’s haunted. He’s embarrassed. But most of all, he’s relieved. He gives her the barest hint of a smile and when he finally opens his mouth to speak, it brings tears to her eyes. 

“Mom.” 

Hearing his voice over the phone over the last week has been nice, but there’s something about hearing him call for her in person that hits hard. 

She wants to run and pull him into her arms and never let go, but she remembers Dr. Lamb’s words to take it slow. The advice that he’ll need time to readjust to the world and possibly even therapy. So she takes tentative steps towards him and controls her impulse to pull him into her arms when he steps in front of her. 

Physically, he looks healthy. She doesn’t know what she’d imagined when she found out he’d spent the last five years on an island alone, but he looks good and she’s so glad. 

She’s so glad. 

She really had given up virtually all hope of ever finding him alive the moment she learned the Gambit had been sabotaged. 

“Oh,” she says, her eyes filling with tears as she tries not to cry. “My beautiful boy.” 

Ignoring Dr. Lamb’s words, she throws her arms around him. She can’t help herself. She needs to hold him in her arms again. Too many nights she’d cried over the fact that she would never again hold her son, she’s not going to miss the opportunity now. 

When Oliver’s arms wrap around her, she starts to cry from relief. 

He’s back. He’s home. She tells herself. Nobody is going to take him from her again. She won’t let them. 

When Oliver drops his arms, she figures that the time for hugging is over and despite not wanting to, she lets him go. 

“Where’s Thea?” he asks taking a step back from her.

“She’s at home,” she says. “I thought it best she wait there. I didn’t know…” 

She doesn’t know how to tactfully finish that sentence. She didn’t know how he would react to seeing people again after so long. She didn’t know what he would look like. She didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps selfishly, she hadn’t wanted to share this moment. There are a number of reasons why she’d told Thea to wait at home. 

Oliver nods and moves to stand by the window again. Moira goes to stand next to him and together they stare at the city’s skyline. Not wanting to crowd him even though there are a million things she wants to say, she stands there in silence and waits. 

It’s enough. She has so many questions, but she doesn’t need answers right now. It’s enough just to be here with Oliver and know that he’s alive. 

She’s been granted a miracle. 

Her baby boy is alive. 

He’s home. 

Oliver lifts his hand and places it against the glass as a bittersweet smile graces his lips. 

“It looks the same,” he says quietly. 

Sensing that there is more he wants to say, she waits, giving him time to find the right words. 

“I spent my entire childhood trying to escape this place,” he says. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see it again.” 

“Everyone is so happy to have you back,” she tells him, putting her hand on his back. She sighs in relief when he puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close, kissing the top of her head. “Thea and Tommy are so relieved.” 

Oliver looks down at her. 

“What about…” Oliver clears his throat before he says more clearly, “What about Felicity?” 

Moira is impressed with herself when she doesn’t tense up at his words or sigh deeply. Oliver is home, she doesn’t need to think about the girl who helped take her son away from her. She’s mature enough to know that Oliver doesn’t need to hear her thoughts on Felicity at the moment. So she plays it cool. 

“I’m really not sure what Felicity is up to these days,” she says. It’s not a lie. The last time she has seen Felicity had been over a year ago when Tommy had been in the hospital.

Oliver nods and looks back out the window. 

“When can I go home?” he asks. 

“I’ll go ask Dr. Lamb,” she says, kissing his cheek before leaving the room to go find the doctor. 

****

Moira is on her way out the door to go pick Oliver up from the hospital when Malcolm pulls into the driveway. Her defensives immediately go up as every nerve in her body screams danger. She will never get used to being around Malcolm and the intense fear it brings her. Ever since the night he strangled her while threatening Thea’s life, she’s been terrified of the man. 

And now, she doesn’t just have one child to threaten. She’s positive that’s the reason why Malcolm is here today. Oliver’s return has been plastered all over the news. 

“Moira,” Malcolm says with a jovial expression, throwing his arms out wide like he’s greeting an old friend and not the woman he’s been harassing for the last five years. 

“What can I do for you?” she asks, painting a smile on her face for the sake of the staff. Malcolm would kill her if she ever let on for even a second the truth behind their relationship. 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” he says with a smile that is anything but happy for her. He’s angry, she’s learned to read the signs. “That’s quite a remarkable story. Shipwrecked for five years, only to return now, of all times.”

Only to return when Malcolm is so close to being able to enact his insane Undertaking. 

She hears what he doesn’t say. 

“It is quite a miracle,” she says with a tense smile, not in the mood for his usual threats. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pick Oliver up from the hospital.” 

Malcolm steps in front of her to block the way to the car and places, what would appear to any outsider, a friendly hand on her arm.  

“I’m sure you can spare the time for a cup of coffee, at least,” he says, leaving her without a choice. “After all, I did drive all the way out here to see you.” 

“Of course,” she says with a smile and waves him towards the door. “I’ll have Raisa set us up in Robert’s old office.” 

She watches Malcolm come through the door and hand his coat off to the maid before walking down to Robert’s office. She quickly talks Raisa into bringing them both exactly one cup of coffee in the smaller mugs. She doesn’t want this conversation to last a minute longer than it has to. 

Then, she steps into the office and closes the door. 

“What do you want?” she asks, dropping the friendly mask. 

Malcolm tsks. “Is that any way to treat an old friend?” 

Moira crosses her arms and waits for him to explain what he really wants. Raisa steps in and gives them both their coffees. Moira sets her down on the desk. She’s felt nauseous ever since Malcolm pulled up, she won’t be able to stomach a coffee. Malcolm, though, makes himself at home. He sits back in Robert’s old chair and takes a giant sip from his mug. He’s far too comfortable here for her liking. 

“The timing of Oliver’s return is rather… convenient,” Malcolm says. 

She scoffs. “There is nothing convenient about being shipwrecked for five whole years alone.” 

“And was he?” he asks, placing the mug on the table, all friendliness dropped. “Alone?” 

“Nobody else made it,” she says carefully. “Robert didn’t survive.” 

“I can’t take the chance that Robert told him about the Undertaking,” Malcolm says. “I’m sorry. I love Oliver like a son, but we’ve worked too hard for this to take the risk that Robert told him.” 

Moira shakes her head. “Oliver doesn’t know anything.” 

She hates how desperate it comes across. 

“He’s been back for a grand total of twelve hours,” Malcolm says. “You have no idea what that boy knows or doesn’t know. I’m sorry, Moira. I truly am.” 

She shakes her head. “No. Don’t do this.” 

“It’s out of my hands,” he says. “I already sent my men to the hospital.” 

Moira slams her hands down on the desk. “Well call them off!” she yells. 

“What would you have me do?” he practically growls. “Wait around and see if he turns us in? No. Like I said, I’m sorry. I never intended for Oliver to be on that boat when I took it down. But he was, and now… The sins of the father unfortunately are laid upon the children.” 

“You don’t have to do this,” she argues. “There are ways to assure that Oliver doesn’t know anything!” 

Malcolm raises his eyebrow at her in question and she has to think fast. What could she possibly do that would satisfy Malcolm into not killing Oliver? She needs a way to ask Oliver what he knows without giving them away. She needs a way to assure he talks. What do people do when they need information out of somebody else? 

“We’ll interrogate him,” she says quickly. 

“You’re going to interrogate your own son?” Malcolm says. “No.” 

“I’ll hire somebody,” she says. “I’ll make sure they do whatever’s necessary to get information out of him.” 

The idea of having somebody interrogate her son makes her sick to her stomach. He’s been through enough at it is, but she’s left with little other choice. Malcolm follows through on his word and if he already has men on their way to the hospital, she’s running out of time. 

Malcolm considers it for almost a minute before he finally says,  “If he knows anything, he has to go.” 

“He doesn’t,” she assures him. “You’ll see.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Malcolm says, standing up. He comes around the desk and places a hand on her shoulder. “I am happy for you. I never meant for Oliver to get caught up in this.” 

She nods her head. 

It’s not until he’s made the phone call to call off his men and has left her home that she can breathe again. 

****

Moira sits on stage doing her best to maintain a blank expression on her face as cameras film everything. She listens in horror as Oliver takes the microphone from Walter and drunkenly rambles on while they can do nothing to stop this. 

She would never admit this to a single other soul, but she’d secretly hoped that being away for five years had taught Oliver something. Maybe some humility. Some responsibility. 

Yet here he is, doing the same childish, selfish things he did before he left. 

“Uh, but as Walter, who’s… my new dad! Huh?” he continues to ramble on to the nearly silent audience. Everyone is hanging on every single word. Every journalist is catching every detail. This is going to be a PR nightmare. 

“Who is… sorry. As Walter was saying, uh, I’m not much of a legacy, per se. And, uh…” 

Walter steps in to try and stop him. “Oliver, you don’t—” 

“No, sit. Sit!” Oliver says, brushing Walter off and it takes everything in her not to react.

Walter sits down next to her and squeezes her hand in silent comfort. Oliver has done a lot of things to embarrass their family, but so rarely does he do them in front of her. So rarely does she have to sit on the sidelines and watch the train derail in front of her eyes. 

“Gosh,” Oliver grumbles. “See, I was supposed to come here today and I’m supposed to take my rightful place at the company. Prodigal son returns home and becomes the heir apparent. But I’m not my father. I’m not the man he was. I’m not half the man he was. I never will be.” 

He sounds so bitter and underneath all of the bravado, she knows there’s real pain there. She wants to do something to help him, but she can’t. Not with everyone watching. 

“So… please, stop asking me to be,” he says. 

It’s a direct line at her for what she’d said earlier. She wishes if he had all these feelings, he’d have come to her before now. He could have said whatever he wanted in private. They didn’t need to air out their dirty laundry for the entire world to see. 

Oliver stumbles off stage as she remains seated not knowing what to do. She nearly rolls her eyes as Felicity emerges from the crowd and rushes after Oliver. 

She bites her tongue as a slew of bitter words come to mind. Now is not the time or place.

“She’s a good influence on him,” she can hear Robert’s voice in the back of her mind and she wants to laugh. A great influence she’s been on his life. If she’s really that great of an influence, why hadn’t she been able to stop him from getting up on stage today? Why had he brushed her arm off and climbed up, stealing the microphone away from Walter? 

“Let’s go,” Walter says. “Gabriella can take over from here.” 

Their PR director is at the podium fueling questions. There’s nothing more they can do in this moment to undo the damage that Oliver just caused. She nods her head and allows Walter to escort Thea and her through the crowd of people all looking for a statement. 

When they reach the parking lot, Walter pulls her towards his car, but she shakes her head. 

“I have to meet with somebody first,” she says, nodding to her waiting driver. “I’ll see you both at home.” 

Walter nods and helps Thea into the car. 

Moira takes a steadying breath and gets into her own car. After what they’ve just watched, there’s no way that Malcolm can keep trying to tell her Oliver knows anything. He’s clearly no threat to anyone except for QC’s Public Relations department. 

***

The front door opens and she rushes out of the kitchen where Raisa had been making her tea to see who it is. 

“Oliver?” she calls out hopefully, needing to see that her son is alright. When she turns the corner and sees Laurel Lance standing in the entryway, she sighs. “Oh, Laurel. I thought you might be my son.” 

“He’s not here?” Laurel asks, looking around as if he might be hiding somewhere. “I heard about the shooting and I wanted to make sure you were all okay.” 

Moira tries to smile at that, but can barely manage. Her body's still shaking from the adrenaline and her heart hasn’t slowed down. She doesn’t think it will until Oliver comes home. The moment those gunshots went off, she’d been in a panic. She’s still kicking herself for allowing Mr. Diggle to pull her and Thea out of the building without Oliver. She’d just been so confused and overwhelmed. If she had known things would have led to Oliver not returning home, she wouldn’t have let him out of her sight. 

“Oliver hasn’t come home,” she admits. 

Laurel sets her purse down by the door and moves to stand beside her where she can rub Moira’s back sympathetically. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Laurel says. 

“We only just got him back,” she whispers, terrified if she voices this fear too loud it will become true. She can’t lose Oliver again. She just can’t. 

“Oliver?” Thea comes rushing down the stairs. “Oh.” 

Thea freezes at the bottom of the stairs when she sees them. “Have you seen Oliver?” 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t,” Laurel says, shaking her head. “But I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” 

Moira pulls Thea into a hug when it looks like she’s about to start crying. “He’ll come back to us,” she says, even though she’s not sure she believes those words. 

“Why don’t we go sit down,” Laurel says. “I’m happy to wait with you.” 

Moira smiles at Laurel over Thea’s head. She’s always been such a nice girl. She’ll always regret that Oliver was never able to make it work with her. Laurel has such a kind heart, as evidenced by the fact that she’s shown up tonight to check on them all. After Oliver took Sara out on the Gambit, Moira wouldn’t blame Laurel if she never talked to them again. But that’s not the case. Laurel has been by a few times over the years to check on Thea and her. 

She’s so forgiving and sweet. She would have been a good addition to their family. Unfortunately now, if Thea is to be believed, Laurel is with Tommy and Oliver is, once again, alone. 

Alone and missing. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t come home yet,” Thea grumbles. “Doesn’t he know we worry about him? There was just a shooting! Doesn’t he want to see if his family is okay?” 

“He’ll be home soon,” Moira says for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. If she keeps saying it, it has to be true, right? 

***

Moira steps out of the interrogation room where they’d just seen Oliver. Her mind is still spinning trying to figure out what is going on. On one hand, she believes her son. There is no way that he could be The Hood. Oliver is much too sweet to kill another person. He cried for three days the time his goldfish died when he was four. The thought of him running around with a bow and arrow killing off Starling’s elite? It’s insane. 

But then, Malcolm had been so worried about what Oliver might know and what he might do upon returning home. He’d been so sure that he’d somehow found out about the Undertaking from Robert. Then Malcolm told her this morning that the Hood has been targeting the list. 

Is it possible? It just can’t be. Her sweet, beautiful boy can’t be the vigilante. It’s ridiculous. 

“You shouldn’t even be on this case!” she hears somebody yelling and she looks up to find Felicity Smoak screaming at Detective Lance. 

Moira fumes. Of course Felicity would turn up here, just like she’s been turning up everywhere. It’s not enough that she destroyed Oliver’s life once by letting him get on the Gambit. She continues to hang around him like she has any right to be here. Hasn’t she done enough harm to this family?

“It’s a clear conflict of interest!” Felicity continues to yell. Every eye in the station is watching them. She’s making a massive scene, but Felicity’s never had any concept of what is proper. 

“You’ve had it out for Oliver since the moment he got back! Now you’re going to try and accuse him of being a murderer! I know you’re hurting over Sara, but enough is enough!” 

“Felicity,” Moira snaps. She storms over to the girl. “Enough.” 

Felicity turns to look at her and Moira can see the determination in her eyes. She has no intention of slowing down anytime soon. 

“I hardly think that yelling at a police officer is going to help Oliver’s case,” she says, giving her a pointed look. “Our family has things handled. Go home.” 

Felicity looks like she’s about to protest, so she holds up her hand to stop her. 

“He didn’t ask for you,” Moira says, unable to keep the hatred out of her voice. Not while her mind is still racing with worry over what Oliver has been up to and what all that time away in isolation may have turned him into. 

“What?” she asks, taking a step back from Lance to face Moira. 

“He asked for Laurel,” Moira says. “Now go home. We’ve got this covered.” 

Felicity looks as if she’s just been slapped and it fills Moira with a sense of satisfaction that it probably shouldn’t. 

It’s not as if it’s a lie. Oliver really had asked for Laurel’s help. As bad of an idea as it is for Laurel to represent him from a legal perspective, there is a part of her that is relieved that Oliver might still be interested in Laurel. She’d assumed that bridge had been burned the second he got on the Gambit. Perhaps not. 

Laurel Lance is a much better option for Oliver than Felicity Smoak. 

****

“Out of my depth?” Walter repeats her words. “Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?” 

Moira shakes her head. She’s still trying to process everything that he’s told her. He knows about the Gambit. He knows she had it salvaged and he sent somebody to move it, only they’ve been killed. There’s only one way that happened. Malcolm knows. Walter’s meddling has lead Malcolm to the only piece of leverage she has. 

Without a doubt, Malcolm knows that she’s been keeping the Gambit as proof of his crimes, just waiting for the right moment to use it and earn her freedom. And now, it’s gone. 

She’s furious. But more importantly, she’s terrified. Walter has no idea what he’s gotten himself into and she can’t tell him. Not without putting him in even more danger. 

“It’s best you leave this alone before you upset anyone else,” she tries to reason with him, but he just shakes his head. 

“What did you do?” Walter says. “I keep trying to figure out what this all means, but I don’t understand any of it.” 

“I need you to trust me,” she pleads with him. 

“Trust isn’t something you get when you lie to your husband,” he says. 

She’s about to argue with him when the phone rings. Walter glances at the caller ID to see who could be calling this late. He looks confused when he answers the phone. 

“Thea?” he says, concerned and Moira’s heart leaps into her throat. It’s nearly midnight. If Thea is calling this late, she has to have gotten into trouble again. 

She holds out her hand to take the phone but Walter doesn’t give it to her. 

“They did what?” Walter says, his eyes growing wide. “Well is she okay?” 

Moira can’t hear Thea’s side of the conversation and she’s growing worried. Both of her children have a reputation for finding trouble. She holds out her hand again for the phone and he waves her off. 

“We’re on our way,” Walter says. “Have one of the drivers take you to the hospital. We’ll meet you there.” 

Walter hangs up the phone. 

“What happened?” she asks, choosing not to yell at him for being so childish as to not give her the phone in the first place. It will take too much time and she needs answers. 

“Apparently somebody attacked Oliver tonight with a gun,” Walter says. 

Moira sucks in a sharp breath. She’d told Malcolm to wait. She’d told him that Oliver isn’t the Hood and SCPD has it wrong, and he hadn’t listened. He’d gone after her baby. 

“Is he okay?” she asks, terrified of the answer. 

“Oliver is okay,” Walter says, grabbing his coat and putting it on. “But Felicity got shot.” 

_ Felicity _ got shot? Moira shakes her head. She doesn’t understand. Malcolm’s men don’t miss. How has this happened?

“What?” she asks, trying to wrap her head around this. “Is she going to be okay?” 

“Thea didn’t know,” Walter says. “I told her we’d meet her at the hospital. Oliver’s on his way there with Felicity.” 

“Oliver left the house?” she asks. “He’s on house arrest.” 

Not that  _ that _ would matter. If Felicity were in danger, Oliver would violate every law in order to stay by her side. She knows her son well enough to know an ankle monitor wouldn’t stop him. 

“You know as much as I do,” Walter says. “Let’s go.” 

Moira nods and follows him out of the office and to the car. Neither of them speak the entire ride to the hospital. There isn’t much she can say at this point. Walter is mad at her, that much is obvious by the way his nostrils keep flaring. He can be angry with her all he wants. Moira salvaged that yacht for answers and after she got them, she kept the yacht as leverage. She’d done nothing wrong and Walter’s actions have put them all at risk at a time when Malcolm’s temper is already at its worst. 

So he can be mad at her, because she’s sure as hell furious with him. 

They arrive at the hospital and rush through the doors. She spots Mr. Diggle first, then she sees Thea and Tommy standing beside him. 

“Where is Oliver?” Moira asks. 

“He’s with Mrs. Smoak and Detective Lance,” Mr. Diggle says, nodding towards the door to the Emergency Room. 

Moira doesn’t wait for any further information, she marches right through the doors and when a nurse tries to stop her, she reminds her who built this hospital. It’s not called the Joshua Dearden Trauma Center for nothing. 

She walks down the hallway until she finds Detective Lance standing outside of what she assumes is Felicity’s door. 

“This is on you,” Moira tells him. “By accusing my son publicly, you’ve made him a target.” 

Lance doesn’t respond and it infuriates her. She’s ready for a good fight. She’s still worked up from her argument with Walter. 

“My son could have been killed,” she says. 

Lance scoffs. “And yet he wasn’t the one that got hurt was he? Yet again the woman who’s with him ends up suffering for his mistakes.” 

Moira sighs. She feels bad about what happened to Sara. She honestly does. Oliver had no business sneaking her onto the Gambit. Moira will never stop feeling guilty over what happened to the Lance family because of her son’s reckless decision. But that doesn’t mean he can continue to go after her family the way he has. 

“I’m truly sorry for what’s happened to your family, Quentin,” she says. “But would you kindly leave mine the hell alone?” 

“As long as Oliver is here and not at home, he has to be escorted by a police officer,” Lance says. 

Moira rolls her eyes. Of course he does. 

She moves past him and walks into Felicity’s room, unsurprised to see Oliver standing next to her bed. What does catch her attention is the way in which he’s stroking her cheek as she nuzzles into his palm. It’s intimate. Far more intimate than can be brushed off as friendship. 

Has something happened between the two of them that she didn’t know about?

“I came as soon as I heard,” Moira announces to the room, but Oliver doesn’t step back from Felicity.

“The doctors say she got lucky,” Oliver says, his eyes remaining on Felicity’s face. “Another inch and it would have hit an artery.” 

He sounds odd. Not just hurt or in shock, but he sounds… ashamed? 

“It’s not your fault,” Felicity says. 

“I should have moved quicker,” Oliver says shaking his head. “If I had reacted a second earlier, you never would have been hit.”

“We were distracted,” she says with a sleepy smile. “It’s okay. Doctor says I’ll be fine.” 

Oliver nods his head as Felicity closes her eyes and dozes off. 

“What happened?” she asks once Oliver finally turns away from Felicity and looks at her. 

“Felicity and I were in my room when a guy barged in with a gun. I pulled her out of the way as quickly as I could, but evidently, not soon enough. I fought him off,” Oliver says with a shrug. 

Moira knows the kind of men Malcolm hires. There’s no way that Oliver would have been able to fight them off. Not without some training of his own. Which only gives weight to the accusations that Oliver is the Hood. If Malcolm finds out that he fought his man off, that’s it. He won’t stop until Oliver is dead. 

“What happened?” she asks, hoping Oliver killed him. 

“I couldn’t hold him off,” Oliver says. “He had the gun on me. Thankfully, Lance showed up and shot him.” 

“He’s dead?” she asks, relieved. 

“I guess,” Oliver says. “I was too concerned with Felicity to stop and check his pulse or anything. But I’m pretty sure he’s dead.” 

Moira nods her head. Lance killing Malcolm’s man is something she can work with. She can still convince Malcolm that Oliver has nothing to do with this, even if it’s starting to look more and more like he does. 

“So, do I want to ask?” she asks, deciding to change topics. She can worry about Malcolm later. 

“Ask what?” 

“About Felicity and yourself?” she asks. “What were you doing alone in your bedroom when you had an inappropriately themed party going on downstairs?” 

Not that Moira can’t guess. Oliver would know better than to leave his own party. Clearly Felicity seduced Oliver away from his guests. Her son has never been able to say no to her. 

Oliver blushes and scratches the back of his neck, a telltale sign he’s embarrassed. 

“We just needed a few minutes alone,” he says. 

She just bets they did. 

Moira chooses her next words carefully. She doesn’t want to upset him, but she also doesn’t want to see him go down a road that will only end in heartbreak. If Oliver and Felicity were having a drunken hookup like she thinks they were, it won’t end well. Oliver will wake up in the morning wanting something more and Felicity will go back to doing what she does best: Turning Oliver down. 

“Oliver—” 

Oliver raises his hands up to stop her. “Please don’t. It’s been a long night.” 

Moira sighs, but relents. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” 

Oliver shrugs. “My knee is a little sore and I could use some Tylenol, but I’m fine. I got off easy.” 

His eyes go to Felicity and she can see him holding back tears. “I should have pulled her out of the way sooner.” 

Moira reaches out to rub his back. 

“It could have been worse,” she says, knowing it’s true. The fact that it was Malcolm’s men who attacked him and it wasn’t worse is a miracle. “She’s going to be fine.” 

“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” he says quietly, and she suspects that wasn’t a comment intended for her ears. 

She kisses his cheek. “I’m going to take Thea home. Will you be alright here?” 

Oliver nods, but the sniffle she hears from him isn’t convincing. 

“I’ll send Tommy in to wait with you,” she says. She’s sure Tommy will be eager to check on Felicity himself. 

Oliver nods and she gives his shoulder one more squeeze before she leaves the room. 

She runs into Lance on the way out who is hanging up the phone. 

“I just got a call from my lieutenant,” Lance says, dejected about something. 

Moira raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. 

“An arms dealer was attacked across town tonight by the vigilante,” he says. “Multiple witnesses put him there. In light of that, all charges against your son are being dropped.” 

Moira nods her head. 

“Thank you,” she says and decides to leave it at that. 

She’s too tired to get into it with Lance tonight. She will, however, have her lawyers call SCPD with complaints of harassment against her family. Lance might be justified in his anger against Oliver for what happened to Sara, but this time, he’s gone too far. He accused Oliver of being the Hood and it nearly got him killed. 

She walks away, breathing a sigh of relief. 

If Oliver isn’t the Hood, then Malcolm can stop coming after him. 

It’s good news, she reminds herself even as she has to admit there’d been the tiniest bit of hope that Oliver actually was the vigilante. With Malcolm finding out about the Gambit, she has no more cards to play. She’s going to have to play Malcolm’s game or her family will suffer. But if Oliver had been the vigilante, then maybe he could have stopped what she’s powerless to. 

Maybe he could have saved the Glades. 

****

Moira sits in her study attempting to read a book and failing. Her mind continues to go back to Felicity’s words that afternoon as Oliver had practically carried her into the house. Sure, she was high on painkillers and likely had no control over what she was saying, but that doesn’t make her words any less true. 

And Moira has been playing those words in her head for the last several hours trying to figure out how she feels about them. 

_ “Shhhh,” she’d whispered loudly. “Your mom will hear and come. She’s like Voldemort.”  _

_ “What?” Oliver had laughed.  _

_ “You know? When they say Voldemort’s name and it gives up their location? You’re going to give up our location and I don’t want your mom to see me going to your bedroom.”  _

_ “It’s okay,” Oliver had said. “She knows you came home with me.”  _

_ “She thinks I killed you,” she’d continued to speak like she was whispering, but Moira’s pretty sure the entire house had heard them with the commotion they’d made. Felicity still hadn’t realized she was standing right there in the entryway.  _

_ “You didn’t kill me,” he’d said with a sigh, like it’s not the first time they’d had that argument.  _

_ “I did. And she knows it. And she’s right. She wants you to be with Laurel. Lovely Laurel. You guys were awful together.”  _

_ “Let’s get you upstairs,” he’d said.  _

_ “You always said your mom didn’t like me because I lived in the Glades,” she says. “But do you want to know what Tommy says?”  _

_ Oliver had looked directly at her, clearly uncomfortable with his mom overhearing everything Felicity had been saying. But Moira didn’t leave even though she knew it would be the proper thing to do.  _

_ “You’re going to tell me anyways,” Oliver said, picking her up completely when she tripped over her own feet and nearly face planted into the center table.  _

_ “Tommy thinks she’s jealous,” Felicity said. “Your dad was never around and until Thea, you were all she had. And you only ever wanted to hang out with me. Your mom thinks I stole you from her.”  _

Moira has honestly never spent a lot of time examining what it is about Felicity that has always annoyed her so much. If anyone asked, it was just about how poorly she fit into their world. Not only did she not have any money and live in the Glades — Moira isn’t so much of an elitist that she can’t open her heart up to the less fortunate and see value in others — It was more than that. It was Donna’s tight dresses and the way she flirted with everyone’s husbands. It was Felicity's babbling and how she always managed to say something inappropriate. 

She’d never once equated her problems with Felicity to her own issues. 

But clearly Tommy Merlyn had. 

Moria’s issues with Felicity mostly revolved around the fact that she turned Oliver down and led him to the Gambit. But she’d disliked her before. 

Why? 

The first time she’d even heard Felicity's name, it had left a bad taste in her mouth. And that was before she’d even met the girl and knew what a graceless disaster she could be. Why hadn’t she liked her? 

She tries to recall the moment. She’d been picking Oliver up from school to spend the day together and he’d been disappointed because he wanted to spend the afternoon with Felicity. Moira had decided to take Oliver out for the day to get over how upset she was with Robert. 

Is it possible Tommy was right? Was she really jealous of a little girl? That seems so petty. But there it is. Nearly every time Oliver said her name after that, it had felt like he was chiseling away at their connection and forming a new one with Felicity. One that Oliver could never stop talking about. 

She could never understand how Oliver, even in elementary school, could be so focused on one woman, when Robert was her husband and she couldn’t keep his attention for five minutes. 

It doesn’t help that Robert had tried to sleep with Donna Smoak in their home. Moira can admit that her issues with Donna stem from seeing the way her husband’s eye always followed the woman around the room instead of remaining on Moira. It was humiliating to have her friends come up to her and ask if Robert was sleeping with Donna. 

So yes, she’d been jealous. The Smoak women made her feel threatened. Donna had rightfully deserved her wrath, but Felicity had been a little kid. The thought fills her with shame and she quickly pushes it down. 

Even if her reasons for disliking Felicity early on were petty, the fact remains that Felicity had broken Oliver’s heart. Repeatedly. How many times over the years has she seen Oliver cry over Felicity for one reason or another? 

They aren’t good together. 

That much, she hadn’t been wrong about. 

The door flies open and Oliver storms into the room. 

“What wrong?” she asks, moving to stand up. 

“You told Laurel I’m still in love with her?” Oliver asks, his voice deeper than she’s ever heard it. His eyes are dark with rage. 

Moira shakes her head. “I simply told her that you requested her as your attorney and that I thought you still had feelings for her.” 

“Why would you do that?” he yells. “It’s bad enough the things you’ve said to Felicity and the way you treat her. But I killed Laurel’s sister. I destroyed the Lance family. And then you go and stir up old wounds. Who gave you the right?” 

“It’s clear that the two of you still have feelings for one another,” she argues. “I really think you can get past this. You just need to show her you’ve grown.” 

“I don’t want to get past this!” Oliver yells. “I asked for Laurel because she’s my friend and I knew she could get her dad to back off. But I’m in love with Felicity. She’s the best thing that I have in my life and I don’t understand why you constantly try to undermine that.” 

“How many times have you cried over Felicity?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“Probably just as many times as she’s cried over me,” he says. “We were kids. We didn’t understand the intensity of our connection or what to do with it. But we understand it now. Felicity is my world. If you want to be a part of it, you need to accept her.” 

“Oliver—” 

“No,” he cuts her off. “I’m done. She’s told me the things you said to her when I was away. Most of which she would have never told me if she weren’t high on painkillers right now, because she’s a good person. But it’s unacceptable. I don’t owe you an explanation, but I’m going to give you one anyways.” 

“Oliver—” 

“No!” he says sharply. “You’re going to hear this. I didn’t get on the Gambit because of Felicity. I was getting on the Gambit no matter what. I am glad she turned me down, otherwise she would have died instead of Sara and I probably would have killed myself on that island. Because the only reason I had the strength to keep going was because I had Felicity’s voice in my head asking me to come back home.” 

Moira feels like she’s been slapped in the face. Oliver never talks about the island or what it was like there. Hearing that Felicity is the reason he came back rather than his own family hurts. 

“I’m taking Felicity home and I’m going to start staying at her place,” he says. “If you don’t accept her, then you don’t accept me, and I don’t want to live here.” 

She reaches out to stop him, but he pulls his arm out of her grasp and storms out, leaving her with a lot to think about. 

****

Moira walks through the door with a heavy sigh, still trying to understand how she could have been so nasty to Oliver as to say the things she said to him tonight. 

Sure, she’s been lonely since Walter left. And she’s been increasingly scared about Malcolm as the Undertaking gets closer and his fuse gets shorter. But had that been any excuse for telling Oliver that there are times she wonders why he bothered coming home at all? Like he’d been on some kind of extended vacation and had decided it was time to come home. 

The state of their relationship isn’t on him, it’s on her. Oliver not trusting her with his secrets isn’t about her. It’s about the five years he spent in isolation enduring the unimaginable. She’d expected her little Ollie to come back and hasn’t done enough to get to know the man that returned instead. She’s done nothing to help him readjust to civilization life except pile on the expectations of what she thinks he should be. Pressuring him to be what she needs. 

It’s not fair. 

She’s the parent. She’s supposed to be what he needs and not the other way around. 

On top of that, she’s done nothing to support the one person Oliver’s reached out to and truly connected with since being home: Felicity. Instead, she drove Oliver out of the house with her unsupportive attitudes. 

This is not the person she wants to be. 

So much of her life is out of her control. She can’t do anything about the fact that she’s going to be complicit in the mass murder of thousands of innocent people. She can’t get her husband to forgive her without telling him the truth, and she can’t tell him the truth without risking his life. She can’t get Thea to stay clean or help her deal with the mountains of anger she’s had ever since the Gambit went down. 

But this is something she can do. She can improve her relationship with Oliver by doing the one thing he’s asked of her. She can try. 

She moves to pour herself a drink, hoping it will help calm her down enough to sleep. Something she hasn’t gotten much of since Walter left. 

“Nightcap?” Oliver asks. 

She’s surprised to hear his voice. He’d made it very clear he had no intention of coming back home when he’d packed up his things last week to go to Felicity’s. 

“Well I thought it might help me, I don’t sleep well alone,” she says. 

When he doesn’t respond, she knows she needs to apologize. They can’t just pretend like tonight didn’t happen. Nor can she brush the fight from last week under the rug. 

“I’m sorry about what I said tonight,” she says, turning around to look at him. 

Oliver shakes his head like her words are unnecessary, even though they are. He deserves much more than an apology. 

“No,” he says. “You were being honest.” 

She shakes her head. 

“No,” she says. “Not entirely. The truth is, with Walter being gone, I’m… I’m lonely.” 

She’s not used to being vulnerable. Her entire life she’s been taught to put on a mask so that nobody can see what’s underneath. Her insecurities aren’t for the world to see. A lady never lets anyone see past the happy exterior. Then with Malcolm, she’s had to learn to be strong no matter the cost. Weakness isn’t acceptable.

But she can see now, putting up those walls around Oliver isn’t going to fix their relationship. 

“You know, you and I used to talk,” she says. “I used to know what you were thinking.” 

Oliver smiles sadly and looks down. 

“But now, even when you’re home, you’re somewhere else,” she says. 

Oliver shakes his head. “I stopped talking to you in high school,” he admits. “I didn’t feel like I could come to you anymore.” 

“You didn’t feel like you could come to me about her,” she says, knowingly. It’s not that he stopped talking to her all together. But Felicity was such a large part of his life and he never willingly talked about anything having to do with her. 

“The things you said to her… The things you blamed her for when I was away?” he says. “It doesn’t sound like you at all. I didn’t believe her when she first told me. I thought she had to have misunderstood what you said, but then I talked to Tommy...” 

“I was hurting,” she says, as if it’s any excuse.

She’s had a week to go over Oliver’s words in her head. She’s had time to reflect and figure out why she needed to blame Felicity so badly for what happened, and if she’s being honest with herself, she’s always known the real reason she lashed out at Felicity after Oliver’s death. 

“It was easier to blame her than to blame myself,” she admits. 

“Why does it have to be anyone’s fault?” he asks. “There was a storm. It’s not like anyone could have known.” 

“I…” she shuts her mouth before she can admit too much. 

The secret of why the Gambit went down is one she’s going to have to take to her grave. Or, if she’s lucky, to Malcolm’s grave. Until Malcolm is no longer a threat, there are some secrets she can’t ever share. 

“I guess I just miss my son,” she admits, instead. 

Oliver isn’t the most expressive man. Not since he’s come back. But she can see the change in him at her words. She’s said the right thing. 

“I miss you, too,” he says. “And I wish that…” 

He trails off and she hates that he still can’t be vulnerable with her. That he’s still keeping so many secrets of his own, but she reminds herself of Dr. Lamb’s words when Oliver first came home. She needs to go slow. These things take time. She needs to earn his trust. 

Maybe then he’ll come clean about being The Hood, because she’s fairly certain at this point that he is the vigilante of Starling City. And when he does, she can tell him how proud she is of him for trying to do good for the city. How she doesn’t approve of his methods, but she’s pleased he’s taking a stand and doing what he can to stop The Undertaking. Maybe she can even help him. After all, she may be reluctantly helping Malcolm now, but she’s spent the last five years doing everything she reasonably can to stop it from happening without tipping off Malcolm. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks. 

She’s not. Not really. But she recognizes it for the olive branch it is and agrees to a late night dinner with him. 

He’s helping her into the car when she decides to extend an olive branch of her own. 

“Why don’t you invite Felicity,” she says. 

“What?” Oliver asks, looking uncertain. 

“I’d like to get to know her through your eyes,” Moira says. “Maybe then I’ll see what it is you love about her.” 

“Everything,” he says with a goofy smile. “But… Are you sure? You just complained about not having any time with me.” 

There’s a voice inside of her head telling her to agree with him and just spend time alone together. She so rarely gets that. However, she now can name that voice as jealousy and even though it’s hard, she pushes past it. If she wants Oliver in her life, pushing Felicity away isn’t the way get it. 

“I’m sure,” she says and Oliver’s genuine smile — such a rare occurrence these days — is all the assurance she needs to know she’s doing the right thing. 

****

Moira takes a sip of her champagne as she listens to Rose talk about the new extension they are putting on their vacation home. She eyes Walter from across the room and tries not to visibly sigh. She’d hoped when he came home last month that things would go back to the way they were between them, but it’s clear something is still bothering him. He’s been distant even as he claims everything is fine. 

She watches as Walter takes Felicity by the elbow and leads her out of the room and her stomach twists in jealousy. She doesn’t honestly believe that Walter and her would sleep together. Walter is incredibly honorable and places heavy value on trust. It’s the reason why their relationship has been strained. And she’d like to think that Felicity wouldn’t cheat on Oliver with his step dad, but still, her stomach twists all the same. 

Something isn’t right. The way they both scanned the room before leaving raised many red flags. 

“The house sounds lovely, Rose,” she interrupts her friend. “You’ll have to invite me over sometime.” 

“Of course,” Rose says with a nod, understanding the conversation has come to an end. Moira dismisses herself and follows down the hall where Walter and Felicity have disappeared to. 

She’s almost to the back door near the gardens when she hears them whispering quietly and stops to listen in where she won’t be seen. 

“... fighting about?” Walter asks, and she’s missed part of the question, but she can fill in the blanks. It’s been obvious to anyone with eyes that Felicity and Oliver have been fighting for the last few weeks. 

“The same thing, I imagine, as you and your wife,” Felicity says. 

“Moira and I aren’t fighting anymore,” he says and Moria would object if she weren’t busy trying to remain hidden. If they aren’t fighting anymore, why won’t he sleep in their bed? 

“Only because she doesn’t realize you’re still looking into who sabotaged the yacht,” Felicity says. 

Moira has to swallow a loud gasp, lest she be discovered. She had no idea Walter was still looking into the Gambit, nor that he’d confided as much in Felicity. A pit begins to form in her stomach. If Felicity knows that the Gambit was sabotaged, how long will it be before Oliver knows as well? Is that why Oliver and her have been at odds?

And why is Walter confiding in her son’s girlfriend of all people? 

“Moira was right, this isn’t safe,” Felicity says. 

“I’m going to find out who killed my best friend,” he says, and his voice leaves no room for argument. 

Moira is terrified. If Walter hasn’t dropped this, there is no telling what all he’s done in his quest for answers. Is there any way it’s possible that he hasn’t alerted Malcolm to his investigation? 

She’s about to interrupt and tell her husband off for his recklessness when Felicity asks, “What have you found?” 

Fearing she won’t be able to get a straight answer out of him, she decides to wait and see what he tells Felicity. Maybe he doesn’t have anything. Maybe the world doesn’t have to fall apart tonight and she’ll be able to keep Walter. 

“A few of the names on that list? They work for Queen Consolidated,” he says. 

“And?” she asks. “Wait… Do you think they had something to do with Robert’s murder?” 

Murder. The word sends a stabbing pain through her heart. She doesn’t like to call it that, even though that’s exactly what it was. Malcolm murdered her husband for daring to stand up to him and he’d almost killed her son. Just like Malcolm will kill Walter if she can’t get him to stop. 

“I questioned Doug Miller today,” he says. 

Moira’s heart races as her mind scrambles to figure out what to do. If Walter questioned Doug, then there is no way that Malcolm hasn’t caught wind of it already. Doug is one of Malcolm’s right hand men. 

She’s heard enough. She steps out from behind the wall she’s been hiding behind. 

“What on Earth do you two think you’re doing?” Moira asks. Felicity jumps and turns to look at her with wide eyes while Walter barely reacts. 

“Mrs. Queen! We weren’t… I just mean if you thought that the two of us were… You know. We weren’t. Not that Walter isn’t attractive. He’s very attractive he’s just old. I mean… not too old. He’s the perfect age for you. Not that you’re old or anything. In fact, you have aged really nicely. What kind of skin cream do you use because it’s amazing? You look good. And he looks good. It’s just that Walter and I would never happen… I love your son. I would never cheat on him. We weren’t… I was just helping Walter with a project,” she says helplessly. “And by project, I don’t mean of the sexual kind.” 

Walter reaches out to place a hand on Felicity’s shoulder, effectively ending her babble. 

“It’s alright, Felicity,” he says. “Why don’t you go rejoin the party.” 

Felicity glances back and forth between the two of them before she slowly walks towards Moira. She has to pass her to go back to the party and when she does, she whispers, “I’m so sorry. I promise we weren’t doing anything.” 

Moira rolls her eyes but doesn’t justify her comment with a response of her own. 

“I’ll ask again,” Moira says once Felicity has left. “What do you think you’re doing? I told you to stop looking into this. I told you how dangerous it is.” 

“Robert was my oldest friend,” he says. To the average listener, he would sound calm, but Moira knows him well enough to hear the rage in his voice. “Do you take me for a man who wouldn’t avenge his best friend’s murder?” 

Moira can barely process his words. All she can see is a man in a mask driving a sword through his heart. Maybe Malcolm will do it himself rather than sending in his associate. She can see him pointing a gun to Walter’s head. Maybe he won’t be that obvious. Maybe it’ll be a car crash. Or a heart attack. Either way, she’s about to lose Walter and she can’t think of a way to save him. 

“Why would you bring Felicity into this?” she asks, fuming.  

As if risking his own life isn’t bad enough, he had to include Felicity. Oliver has been through enough. He doesn’t need to lose his girlfriend as well. But that’s what’s going to happen. Felicity knows about the Gambit and so she’s going to be killed right alongside Walter. And God help her, if Felicity’s told Oliver about any of this… 

“I needed somebody I could trust to keep it a secret,” he says. “Somebody who wasn’t loyal to you.” 

It’s a pointed comment and it hits hard. Felicity  _ isn’t _ loyal to Moira and she only has herself to blame there. 

_ Maybe if you’d been nicer to Felicity from the start, you wouldn’t be in this mess _ , a little voice inside her head whispers, but she ignores it. Walter would have found himself in the middle of this with or without Felicity’s help. He’s too noble for his own good. 

“You lied to me,” she says, her panic growing. “You told me when you came back that you were done with this.” 

“I thought I could forget about it,” he says. “But you told me too many lies. You embezzled money from the company. Salvaged the Queen’s Gambit. Why, Moira? What was it all for?” 

She shakes her head. He has no idea. When he says it like that, it sounds like she’s a criminal. But everything she’s done has been to protect her family. She’s not one of them. She’s not. She refuses to believe that. 

“For leverage,” she admits. After all, he’s going to die soon. She may as well be truthful with him now. 

“Against whom?” he asks and she shakes her head. She might be willing to tell him everything, but she’s still terrified of giving up Malcolm. She’s seen Malcolm’s rage and has no desire to experience it again. 

She doesn’t want him to have to experience it. 

Her kind hearted Walter. He deserves so much more. 

So does Felicity. Water has no idea what he’s dragged that girl into. 

Damnit. 

“Against whom?” he repeats. 

“People you’ve made very angry,” she snaps, upset at him for putting them in this situation. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? 

“Well then let me help you fight them,” he says. 

“I can’t fight them,” she argues. “I am them.” 

The second the words leave her lips, she realizes it’s true. She is them. She’s been telling herself that she’s been doing this because of fear. That she’s been protecting her family. And while that’s true, somewhere along the way, didn’t she become complicit in this? 

She is them. 

But she’ll be damned if she lets her family get hurt because of it. 

“Excuse me,” she says, marching off in search of a phone. She needs to call Malcolm. She needs to talk him down. She needs to convince him not to kill Walter and find out if he knows about Felicity’s involvement. Oliver can’t lose Felicity and she can’t lose another husband. 

****

Moira is still reeling from Oliver’s motorcycle accident when she steps out of the car and walks over to Malcolm. 

“It’s done,” he says calmly, like he hasn’t just arranged for Walter and Felicity to be kidnapped. 

“And they won’t be harmed?” She needs the confirmation. 

She’s terrified for them, but she knows it’s the only realistic option. She’d tried to get Malcolm to back off altogether, but he’d been unwilling. Walter and Felicity knew too much. They were a liability to the Undertaking. She’d been lucky she’d gotten him to agree to kidnapping them and holding them until the Undertaking was over. 

“Nor will anyone ever discover your involvement. You have my word,” he says. 

“Forgive me if I don’t find that comforting,” she says, snidely. 

There’s a lot to hate about Malcolm, but the fact that he can still act like they are old friends when he’s the reason for every bad thing in her life over the last five years is the worst. 

“You were warned, Moira,” he says. 

She wants to cry. To tell him that she’d taken him seriously. It’s Walter that hadn’t cowered under the threat of danger. It’s useless now. 

“I told you to get Walter under control and you couldn’t. He went and got Felicity involved. Do you have any idea how Tommy is going to react? Or how hard that’s going to hit my company? She’s our director of R&D.” 

“Is that what you’re thinking about right now? Your bottom line?” she scoffs. “She is Oliver’s entire world. He’s going to be utterly devastated.” 

“But I’m guessing he’ll be spending a lot more nights at home now,” Malcolm says with a smile. “That should make you happy.” 

Moira glares at him. 

“I am sorry,” he says. “But steps had to be taken.” 

“That’s what you said to justify Robert’s murder. And you wonder why I don’t trust you?” she says. 

She feels like she’s going to be sick. How had she ever allowed things to get this far? She should have gone to the police earlier. If she thought the SCPD was in Malcolm’s back pocket, she should have gone to the FBI. They would have listened to her. After all, Malcolm is planning a terrorist attack.

She should have done more. She can only pray that her family never finds out about this. Moira is never going to forgive herself, she has no idea how Oliver will ever begin to. The two of them have only just started to repair their relationship, if he finds out that she is responsible for Felicity going missing? He’ll never speak to her again. 

“Quite a bit of judgement coming from someone who had her son kidnapped and tortured,” he says.

“To prove to you that Oliver didn’t know anything,” she says, angry that he’d bring that up like she’s somehow the bad guy here. He’s the one that threatened to kill Oliver when he returned. He knows the only reason she’d done that was to save his life. 

“And what does it matter now?” she asks. “What’s done is done.” 

“No Moira, it’s just beginning,” he says with a deranged smile on his face. “In six months, the organization’s vision of what this city should be will be complete.” 

He says it like he’s talking about some research project his company is working on, not a terrorist attack that will kill thousands. It’s disgusting. 

Once again, she wonders what happened to the loving man he used to be. She doesn’t understand how Rebecca’s death has led them here. Moira was devastated by what happened to Robert. She didn’t decided to start plotting murder. 

At least, not willingly. 

“And you won’t feel a thing, will you?” she asks, horrified. “Thousands of innocent people will be dead and you’ll feel nothing.” 

“That’s not true,” he says taking a step towards her and she has to fight the urge not to step back, lest she look weak. “I’ll feel a sense of accomplishment. Oliver will have Felicity and you’ll have Walter.” 

He gets into his car and she can only stand there. 

Six months. 

In six months she’ll have Walter back, but the city will be in ruins. 

***

“This is your doing!” Malcolm yells at her the second he hangs up his phone. His face is red with rage and she takes several steps back until her back is against the wall and she can’t escape any further. 

“Please, Malcolm, calm down,” she says, holding her hands up in defense, trying to help him see that she’s not a threat to him, but nothing can get through to him when he’s like this. 

“Clearly if you want something done right—” he pauses to throw his phone on the ground, shattering it to pieces. “You have to do it yourself.” 

“What does that mean?” She’s afraid to ask. 

Malcolm’s men have tried and failed four times to kidnap Felicity over the last two weeks and with each failure, his rage has grown. He’d already beaten one of his lackeys pretty badly last week for failing to capture Felicity. 

“It means that I’m going to go get her myself,” he says sharply.

Moira sucks in a breath. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

It’s not like Malcolm is a stranger. Felicity knows exactly who he is. If he goes after her and fails, he’ll be giving himself away. And failure is incredibly likely. After all, the Hood seems to be keeping an unnaturally close eye on Felicity, seeing as he’s rescued her two out of the four times. Moira is positive she knows why and it has everything to with her son being the one dressed in leather. Not that she’ll tell Malcolm as much. 

“Felicity Smoak knows too much,” he says. “She’s going to ruin everything if we let her. She has to be taken off the board.” 

Moira doesn’t like the way that sounds. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to kidnap her, it sounds like he’s going to kill her. 

“Don’t hurt her,” she pleads with him, earning her a slap across the face. 

She raises her hand to hold her cheek and tries not to cry. It’s been years since he’s hurt her physically, but clearly this mishap with Felicity has sent him over the edge. 

“That little bitch will bring down everything we’ve worked for if we let her,” he says, pointing his finger inches from her face. “And don’t act like you suddenly care about the fate of Felicity Smoak.” 

“I may not be her biggest fan, but I don’t want her dead,” Moira answers. 

“Then you should have thought of that earlier,” he says. “You couldn’t keep your family in line and it’s putting everything at risk.” 

“Please,” Moira says, shaking her head. 

Oliver already refuses to speak to her. She’s pretty sure he knows that she’s behind the kidnapping attempts. That Felicity has filled him in on her dark secret. If Felicity ends up dying, he will never forgive her. 

“Leave,” Malcolm says, his voice filled with darkness. He’s pointing at the door. “I have to prepare.” 

Moira swallows down another protest. She knows it’s pointless when he gets like this. She can only pray that Oliver is strong enough to protect Felicity against Malcolm and that he doesn’t get caught in the crossfire. 

****

Moria is at home going through old photo albums looking for pictures of Thea to use for her birthday party. She’s trying to distract herself from what she knows Malcolm is likely doing right now: murdering Felicity Smoak. 

Thankfully, Thea is out of the house for the evening and Oliver hasn’t been home in weeks. Her cheek is starting to bruise from Malcolm’s slap and her lip is already swollen. She’s going to need a cover story for the injury in the morning as she doubts makeup will cover all of it. 

She jumps in shock when the window beside her shatters to pieces and a dark figure comes through. Her first thought is that Malcolm has sent his associate to come and kill her, but when she turns, she sees The Hood standing in front of her with his bow drawn. Even with half of his face covered with the green hood and grease paint smeared across his eyes, Moira would recognize her son. He looks so angry and confused and she wants to pull him into a hug but the arrow pointed at her chest stops her. 

“Moira Queen, you have failed this city,” he says with some kind of voice distortion device. 

Her heart freezes and she doesn’t dare move a muscle for fear of him shooting her. 

This isn’t him. Oliver would never kill her. He’s confused. He’s lost. He’s… He’s become someone else. 

“Please,” she says, holding her hands up slowly. 

“What is the Undertaking?!” he yells loudly, taking a step towards her and she takes several steps back, knocking over a few picture frames on the table beside her in her haste. 

“Please, don’t do this,” she says again. 

“I won’t ask again!” he yells, his voice so dark. She’s only ever seen one man this angry in her life — Malcolm — and she already knows what  _ that _ rage is capable of. She’s not eager to see what Oliver’s capable of. 

She needs to talk him down. She needs to get him to see her as his mother again, not as a threat.

She could tell him that she knows his secret. She could call him by name. Try to talk him off the ledge. However, she can’t see that calming him down. If she reveals that she knows his secret, it could anger him enough to let go of that arrow. 

She quickly glances around the room, looking for anything that could help her. 

Why hasn’t security shown up yet? Even with Oliver being able to bypass the security system because he knows the codes, there’s still countless security guards on property at all times. What has he done with them? 

Her eyes fall on a picture of Oliver and Thea on the day she was born. Oliver is holding her with a giant smile on his adorable face. 

She reaches out and blindly grabs a photo frame off of the table, knowing that all of the pictures are of the same two kids. 

“Please,” she says, holding the picture out for him to see. “Don’t do this. I’m a mother! I have two children whom I love deeply. They’ve already lost a father. Don’t make them orphans.” 

She looks over the top of the frame and can see him lowering the bow just the tiniest fraction as his grip loosens slightly. But the moment passes quickly and he tightens his grip on the bow again. 

“What is the Undertaking?! What do you want with Felicity Smoak?!”

“I don’t know,” she cries, but his growl tells her he doesn’t like that answer. 

“Tell me what you’ve done with Walter Steele?!” 

She has a choice to make. She can tell him the truth or she can wait for him to kill her. If she tells him, there a possibility he can fix it. That he could do what she hasn’t been able to do in the last five years: stop Malcolm. But if she tells him, he could die. The Dark Archer already beat Oliver down before, it was all over the news. She’d put two and two together: Oliver’s motorcycle accident had actually been the result of The Hood taking on Malcolm’s associate. 

If she gives Oliver Malcolm’s name, he could destroy Malcolm… But Malcolm could also destroy him. 

“Who are you working with?!” he yells. 

She’s not sure why she says it. She certainly hadn’t consciously come to a decision, but the words tumble out of her mouth all the same. 

“Malcolm Merlyn.” 

****

“Hey.” 

Moira jumps a bit at his voice. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. Thea has been up in her room refusing to come down. She’s upset about Moira having had to cut their day short. Oliver hasn’t been over in weeks. The last time she’d seen him had been a few days ago when he’d confronted her as The Hood. She’d expected to have a quiet evening alone. 

“Oliver,” she stands up and turns to greet him with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“What happened here?” he asks, nodding to the boarded up window in the room. As if he didn’t already know. He’s the one who caused it. 

“I was confronted by The Hood,” she says, giving him a knowing look, but he ignores it. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, his face a careful mask, hiding whatever emotion he’s feeling. 

“He didn’t hurt me,” she informs him. “He was just looking for information.” 

Oliver nods his head and crosses his arms, but doesn’t say anything more on the subject. 

“Mom, why would Thea think you’re having an affair with Malcolm Merlyn?” he asks. 

Moira takes a step back at the question. She hadn’t realized that Thea thought she was having an affair, but it would explain the attitude she’s been giving her tonight. It had seemed like an extreme reaction to Moira having to cut their day short by an hour. She must have seen Malcolm on the caller ID earlier. Still, she doesn’t know why Thea’s first thought would be to jump to the idea that she’s having an affair. 

The idea of sleeping with Malcolm ever again makes her sick to her stomach. If she’d have known what a monster Malcolm was back then, she never would have slept with him the first time. It’s almost laughable now that she’d gone running to Malcolm because he’d seemed like such a better man than Robert. If only she’d known then. 

“I have no idea why she would think that,” she says. 

Oliver steps in the room and makes himself comfortable against the table, crossing his arms and staring at her like he’s searching for something specific in her answers. And seeing as she knows Oliver’s secret, she’s sure that he’s trying to figure out how deep her connection to Malcolm runs. 

“Mom,” he says, giving her a pointed look. “Please.” 

Moira sighs. 

“Thea really shouldn’t be worrying about this,” she says with a pointed look of her own. Digging into Malcolm’s activities is only going to get Thea into trouble. 

“I told her not to worry about it, but you know Thea. She’s not going to drop this,” Oliver says, causing Moira to roll her eyes. Must her entire family be so damn stubborn all of the time. They make protecting them an impossible job. 

“Mom,” he says, firmly. “What is your relationship with Malcolm?” 

Moira looks up at him. She’s about to say nothing. She’s about to tell him that he should mind his own business. She doesn’t. 

She isn’t just talking to Oliver here. She’s talking with The Hood. She’s taking with the only person in the entire city that stands even a sliver of a chance at stopping what is about to come. It’s risky. She is putting Oliver right in Malcolm’s path by telling him anything, but she also knows that she can’t just sit by and let Malcolm destroy the Glades and she has no more cards of her own to play at this point. 

At some point in her life, she has to stop letting fear win and start trusting others to make their own decisions. 

She takes several deep breaths in and out, trying to stop the growing panic. She has to learn to separate the Oliver Queen from before and the Oliver Queen standing in front of her. The Oliver Queen of before needed her protection. He needed her guidance. This man in front of her isn’t weak or confused. He’s the man who’s been running around the city standing up to the worst of the worst. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s going to stop the Undertaking. 

If she gives him the information, he could stop the Undertaking. 

The more she says it, the more true it will become, right? 

“Oliver, I know by now that you know about my involvement with… things,” she says. It’s not outright telling him that she knows his secret, but she’s hoping he understands what she’s trying to tell him all the same. “I’m sure Felicity’s told you all about why Walter was taken and why people are coming after her. Your father… He’s not the man you remember.” 

“I know,” Oliver says. 

“He left us in an awful position when the Gambit went down,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t have a choice. I tried to fight back at first, but I wasn’t strong enough to stop it. If I wanted to protect your sister, I had to help them.” 

“You don’t have to explain,” Oliver says. 

She shakes her head and is about to protest when he puts his hands on her arms and shushes her. 

“Dad told me,” Oliver says. “Before the boat went down, he told me about his involvement with something, I just didn’t know what.” 

So Malcolm had been right to worry. Oliver had known about the Undertaking from the beginning. It makes sense. The Hood had shown up and started attacking the list from the first week Oliver got back. 

“He’s a powerful man,” she says and Oliver’s eyes go dark. 

“Maybe so,” he says, his voice deep and gravely. It’s the same voice that he’d used as The Hood, minus the modulator device. “But so am I.” 

****

Moira is listening to the end of a show, waiting for the nightly news to come on, as she sits at her vanity and takes off her makeup. She’s still got another fifteen minutes before ten, so she’s only half listening to the television when the news breaks. 

It’s not until she hears Malcolm’s name that she registers the show had even been interrupted with a breaking news story. She stands up and grabs the remote to turn up the TV as she reads the headline: 

_ Merlyn Global Group CEO Accused of Terrorism: Son turns his father in for planning an attack on the Glades _

“...SCPD, along with the FBI, raided Malcolm’s private residence as well as his company’s headquarters here in Starling City, but Malcolm was nowhere to be found. Authorities suspect he was tipped off of the arrest warrant. He is being considered armed and dangerous. Should you see Malcolm Merlyn anywhere, you should stay clear and call 911 immediately.” 

Moira’s head is spinning as she watches the news report. Apparently, Tommy found out about the Undertaking and turned Malcolm in to the authorities. The FBI is involved and they’d tried to arrest Malcolm, but he’s gone missing. 

Her heart races as she thinks about all the people that are now in danger. Malcolm is a dangerous man on a good day. On a bad day, he’s murderous. This, by far, is his worst day. Moira doesn’t even know how Tommy had found out about the plans. Malcolm has always been careful to keep Tommy away from it. 

A video of Tommy pushing his way through a crowd of reporters, Felicity at his side, shows up on screen and it becomes clear. 

Felicity and Tommy are good friends. Between her and Oliver, somebody must have finally told Tommy about what a monster his dad is and Tommy did what the rest of them were too scared to do: tell the police. It’s not that Moira hasn’t ever thought of it. She has. She’s just never believed the police would have enough power to do anything to stop it. All a call to the police would do is put Malcolm into a rage and direct that rage at her family. 

Oh god. 

Tommy. 

Moira picks up the phone as the reporter continues to give whatever details they have about the planned attack. She listens in as she waits for Oliver to pick up the phone. 

“Little is known at this moment just what Merlyn had planned for the Glades or who else may have been involved—” 

“Mom?” Oliver asks. 

“Are you watching this?” she asks. 

“I’m living it,” he says. “Tommy and Felicity’s place is surrounded by reporters.” 

“Is Tommy safe, is he okay?” she asks, trying not to worry. If Oliver is with Tommy, he’ll protect him. 

“He’s okay,” Oliver says. “There are FBI agents here. Even Malcolm isn’t stupid enough to try something now.” 

“Oh god,” Moira says. “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“It’s over,” Oliver says. “You don’t have to live in fear anymore.” 

Moira wishes it were that simple. Five years she’s lived in fear of Malcolm Merlyn. But an arrest warrant doesn’t put her mind at ease. Malcolm is a man of infinite resources and savvy, he can find a way out of this. Until he is caught and behind bars, she won’t be able to breathe. 

The nightmare isn’t over yet. 

****

Moira is pacing the room, unable to settle down. The TV is running CNN, her computer is open to the SCNN live feed, and she’s constantly refreshing her tablet for updates. It’s been 24 hours since the FBI tried to arrest Malcolm Merlyn but he’s in the wind.

Moira keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the news to report that Tommy’s been murdered. For Malcolm to show up at her doorstep in a rage. For a bomb to go off in the Glades. She’s waiting for something. Any kind of move on his part. She’s expecting retaliation. 

There’s nothing. 

Radio silence. 

It puts her on edge. He’s capable of almost anything and that’s terrifying. She can’t protect against what she doesn’t see coming. 

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Raisa asks her and Moira kindly shakes her head and waves her off. She’s given the staff the day off but Raisa had refused to leave. Moira sent everyone away for fear of The Dark Archer showing up here and going on a murder spree. After all, it is her family that handed Tommy the smoking gun. It makes sense that Malcolm would send his associate here and make good on his threats. 

Her phone rings and it causes her to jump and knock over a vase. She reaches for the phone and notices the New York area code. It’s Thea calling from rehab. At least her little girl is nearly 3,000 miles away from all of this mess. 

She’s probably caught the news and is calling to check in. 

“Hello?” Moira answers the phone. 

“Moira Queen?” somebody asks. 

“Yes?” 

“This is Dr. Guffman calling from The Dunes,” he says, even though she knows who Dr. Guffman is. He’d called her last week to help facilitate a phone call with Thea as part of her therapy. 

“Yes?” she asks, waiting for him to explain why it is that he’s calling. 

“I regret to inform you that Thea isn’t here,” he says. “It appears as if she’s run away.” 

Moira nearly drops the phone as something awful and cold claws at her heart. 

No. 

It can’t be. 

Nobody even knew where Thea had been taken, Oliver had made sure of it. At the time, they’d done it to protect her from the media attention, however it had also been a good excuse to get her as far away from Malcolm’s reaches as possible. 

Obviously it wasn’t far enough. 

Moira shakes her head. 

No. 

Not her baby. 

Not her little girl. 

****

The first thing Moira notices is the smell. She sleeps with a diffuser and so she’s used to her bedroom smelling like chamomile, not like a locker room. 

She can sense something isn’t right, but she can’t put her finger on what it is yet. She knows she needs to wake up, but it feels like she’s being held underwater. Her brain is struggling to process things, like everything is just a touch out of reach. She’s never been high, but she imagines this is what it would feel like. 

Her head pounds and her body aches. Her back is tight and the tingling in her arms lets her know that she’s slept funny and she’s developed a pinched nerve. Her chiropractor isn’t going to be happy with her. 

She tries to open her eyes, but her eyelids are too heavy. 

She goes to move and that’s when she hears the sound of metal hitting metal. It’s an odd sound. She can’t place what it is. 

She moves again and again, there’s that sound. 

She tries to roll over, but is stopped halfway through by a heavy weight pulling at her. There’s something around her wrists. 

She tries to move her arms and that’s when she realizes she’s bound. 

There’s somebody calling her, but they sound so far away. She moves her head to follow the source of the voice and wills her eyes to open. When they finally do, she has to immediately shut them at the blinding light. 

“Mom,” she hears Thea crying and that’s enough to pull her head above water and shake off the fog. 

“Thea?” she whispers, tentatively opening her eyes. It takes a moment, but they eventually adjust to the light and she’s able to see. 

“Mom, are you okay?” she asks. 

“Thea?” her eyes roam the room. 

Tommy is in one corner, chained to a large metal pipe coming out of the ground. Thea is… 

Her baby girl is handcuffed to a radiator. 

“Are you okay?” Moira asks, struggling to sit up so that she can look at Thea properly. It’s a feat with the chains around her wrists winding all the way up to her elbow, but she manages to push herself up to her knees. 

“I’m fine,” Thea says, even though she’s crying. “You’ve been out for hours. You have to do something, Tommy is bleeding.” 

Moira’s eyes move over to Tommy who looks awful. She doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before. His right eye is swollen shut and there are blood stains all over his shirt. The most concerning of which is a large stain at his side. 

“My sweet boy,” she says, attempting to move over towards him, but the chains hold her in place. “What happened?” 

She asks the question, but she already knows the answer. 

Malcolm. He wants his revenge and he’s going to get it. None of them are safe. 

“He wouldn’t stop,” Tommy says distantly. His speech is slurred and his jaw barely moves. She wonders if it’s broken. 

“He was looking for Oliver and Felicity,” Thea cries. “He kept hitting Tommy until he finally told him where they were.” 

“I didn’t want to,” Tommy says, a tear rolls down his cheek and leaves a visible track through the blood caked to his face. 

“It’s okay,” Moira tells him. “It’s okay. Oliver can take care of himself.” 

Tommy spits out a mouthful of blood as he laughs to himself, even though she knows he doesn’t find any of this humorous. 

“Why? Cause he’s the Hood?” Tommy asks. “Don’t worry, Dad already told me Oliver’s secret.” 

Moira has to bite back her own tears. This situation is desperate enough. She can’t lose the little bit of sanity she has left. Not if she’s going to keep Malcolm from hurting Tommy or Thea anymore than he already has. 

She needs a plan. 

****

Moira watches in silence as an unconscious Felicity is dropped to the floor and Malcolm begins wrapping the chains around her arms and legs. She doesn’t dare say a word, she’s learned that lesson the hard way. She’s pretty sure one of her ribs is broken because it hurts to take a deep breath.

Instead she does her best not to draw any attention to herself as she studies Felicity. 

The first thing she does is watch for the rise and fall of her chest. She’s breathing, which is a good start. Felicity is covered in bruises, the most noticeable being the handprint around her neck. Felicity had fought back before she was taken. Moira knows those kind of bruises intimately. She too had fought back once. She never did it again. 

She’s proud of Felicity for trying to fight off a man she had no hope of escaping, she can see why Oliver’s so impressed with her. But that stubbornness and pride won’t get her very far here. Moira is terrified of what kind of lip she’ll give Malcolm once she wakes up and how he’ll react. If he was willing to beat his own son as badly as he has, he won’t bat an eye at hurting Felicity. 

She closes her eyes and says what has to be the millionth prayer since she got here. They need to make it out of this alive. 

Tommy at least stands a chance. As angry as Malcolm is at him for turning him over to the police, he’s Malcolm’s son. He’s the last piece of Rebecca that Malcolm has left. That has to count for something. 

Moira doesn’t know if years of friendship will mean anything, but she hopes that Malcolm will remember that they’ve known and cared for each other long before the Undertaking began and that might spare Thea and her. 

But Felicity? Nothing short of a miracle is going to save her. And as much as she likes to think that Oliver would never let any of them die, he’d have to be able to find whatever hellhole Malcolm’s thrown them into first. 

Malcolm finishes wrapping Felicity’s arms and legs and moves to stand up and pull on a chain that has been hanging from the ceiling. Moira watches on in horror as he connects it to Felicity’s chains and strings her up until her feet are barely touching the ground. 

Felicity starts to stir and Moira silently begs her to stay asleep for just another minute. Just long enough for Malcolm to leave. 

Her head lulls to the side a few times as she grumbles, but eventually she settles and seems to be out again. 

Malcolm stares at Felicity for another moment or two, likely wanting to see if she’d wake up so he could start torturing her. When she doesn’t, he turns to them. 

“The sooner she talks and gives me the device, the sooner you can go back home,” he says. 

“Like you’re going to let us go home,” Tommy says. 

“You think I want this?” Malcolm asks, stalking over to kneel in front of Tommy. “You’re my son. I wanted to give you the world, but you had to go and screw everything up by siding with  _ them _ .” 

“Let’s not rewrite history and pretend like you ever cared about me,” Tommy says. “You’ve always been the monster in my story, you just used to be better at hiding it.” 

Malcolm smacks Tommy, causing Thea to whimper and Moira to gasp. 

“Malcolm, please,” Moira begs. “He’s your son.” 

“A fucking worthless one,” Malcolm spits out, causing Tommy to roll the one eye that hasn’t been swollen shut. “At least Oliver grew up and made something of himself. Even if that something is incredibly misguided. What have you ever done? And don’t pretend running a nightclub is any kind of real work.” 

“I managed to not be a psychopath, which is more than you can say,” Tommy says. “Mom would be ashamed of you.” 

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT YOUR MOTHER WOULD FEEL!” Malcolm yells, causing Felicity to stir and Thea to cower even more into herself.

“Your mother doesn’t feel anything,” Malcolm says, dangerously quiet. “She’s dead. The world she cared about protecting never gave a damn about her.” 

“Don’t use her to justify your actions,” he says.

“Tommy,” Moira whispers, begging him to please stop. The more he eggs Malcolm on, the worse this is going to get for them. 

Tommy shakes his head and turns away from all of them. Malcolm stands up and adjusts his sleeves before brushing dirt off of his shirt. 

“I suggest you all do your best to convince Ms. Smoak to talk,” he tells them. “Things will go much easier for everyone here if she does.” 

****

“Dad, stop!” 

“Malcolm please!” 

“Don’t do this!” 

“I don’t know anything!” 

They all scream at Malcolm as he points an arrow inches from Thea’s heart and Thea sobs hysterically.

“What’ll it be, Ms. Smoak,” Malcolm says, his voice eerily calm and Moira wants to throw up. Her stomach is tied in knots and it feels like all the air in the room has been sucked out. 

She’s about to watch her baby girl die and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Everything she’s done to protect her family, and in the end it was worthless. 

“Don’t do this, please,” Moira cries. “Please, if you care about me at all, don’t do this!” 

“Malcolm, you don’t want to hurt her,” Felicity says, doing her best to remain calm, but Moira can see she is trembling. 

“Dad!” 

“Malcolm!” 

“Where is it!” Malcolm yells, his face red with rage. “I’ll kill her! You know I will! Tell me where it is!” 

“Don’t hurt her,” Moira continues to cry. 

She can’t watch this. She tugs on her chains, even though she knows it’s useless. She’s been tugging on them for days and it’s done nothing but cause her wrists to bleed. 

Malcolm pulls back on the bow a little bit further like he’s about to release the arrow. 

“No!” 

“Don’t!” 

“She’s your daughter!” 

Every head in the room turns to look at Felicity in shock. 

“Thea is your daughter,” Felicity says quickly. “You don’t want to kill her.” 

“That’s not possible,” Malcolm says, directing his attention back to Thea, studying her face as if it holds the answers. 

“No, no,” Thea whispers, shaking her head repeatedly. 

Moira is too worried about the arrow pointed at Thea to wonder how Felicity knew. 

“Nineteen years ago you had an affair with Moira,” Felicity explains, answering the question Malcolm didn’t ask. “It was in April. We were in 3rd grade. I remember because we all went on that field trip to the aquarium and you two were late picking up Tommy and Oliver. When you arrived together, I overheard you talking. You’d been together. Nine months later, Thea was born.” 

Felicity had known the entire time. She’d known and never once told Oliver. Why? 

Moira has so many questions, but there isn’t any time to ask them. Not when Thea’s life is still in danger. 

Malcolm lowers the bow and Moira can see him doing the math in his head, trying to figure out if Felicity is right. 

“It’s not possible,” he says, turning to look at Moira. His face is equal parts betrayal and devastation. 

She could deny it. She could lie and talk her way out of it. Thea’s always been so small, it’s not ridiculous to think she’d been a preemie. After all, it’s what Robert believed. She never wanted Thea to know Robert wasn’t her father. She certainly never wanted Malcolm to get his hands on Thea. But Moira has done her own math. She knows exactly why Felicity has chosen now of all times to let this secret out. 

Malcolm won’t hesitate to kill Thea if Felicity won’t give him what he wants, and she can’t give him what she doesn’t know. So they have to give Malcolm a reason to spare Thea. 

No matter how far gone he may be, she doesn’t honestly believe he’d kill his own child. 

“I never wanted you to know,” Moira whispers. 

“No,” Thea cries quietly in the corner, her face belaying how betrayed she feels. “No… How could you? How could you keep this from me?” 

“Thea’s my sister?” Tommy asks, struggling to comprehend the news. “You slept with Oliver’s mom?” 

She can see Malcolm’s initial shock start to pass as the rage begins to return. 

“Malcolm, please, you need to let them go,” Moira begs him. “This is between you and I.” 

“Not anymore!” Malcolm yells. “Your family’s messed with mine one too many times.” 

He turns around to point the end of his bow at Felicity. “She knows where the device is and she’s going to tell me!” 

“I don’t know where it is,” Felicity shakes her head. “I told you, after I wiped Unidac’s hard drive and dismantled the device, Oliver put it in a package and sent it somewhere.”

“Lies!” Malcolm yells. 

“If I knew, don’t you think I would have told you by now!” Felicity yells, earning her a slap to the face. 

“Dad, please,” Tommy says. “Give it up. You aren’t going to get your answers from her.” 

“I would keep quiet if I were you,” Malcolm says to Tommy. “You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet for what you did.” 

“Malcolm, you want the device, Oliver has it,” Felicity says, speaking as if she’s trying to calm a rabid dog. Which isn’t too far off from the truth. “You need leverage, but you don’t need all of us. Let them go.”  

“No!” Tommy yells at the same time Thea asks, “What?” 

“Felicity, what are you doing?” Moira asks, terrified that Felicity is about to do what Moira thinks she’s about to do. 

She’s going to sacrifice herself for them and Moira can’t let her. She can’t. Moira is the one that got them into this mess in the first place. Felicity can’t die because of her sins. If anyone should be left behind, it’s Moira. 

“Don’t do this,” Moira says. 

They all protest, but Malcolm and Felicity ignore them. 

“Thea and Tommy are your children. No matter how angry you are, you don’t really want to hurt them,” Felicity says. “And you’ve already taken Robert from Thea. Don’t take her mother, too. You’re a good man. I’ve worked for you for almost five years. I know how much you care about family. Underneath all of this rage, you are a  _ good _ father and I know you want a relationship with your children.” 

Malcolm starts to relax and Moira can see that she’s getting to him. He’s listening to her. They all continue to protest, but it’s like they can’t hear them. Malcolm’s only listening to Felicity.

“Don’t do this. Don’t do something you won’t be able to come back from,” Felicity says firmly. “You need the device and Oliver has it. Keep me. Let them go. I promise you, I’m leverage enough. Oliver will burn this city to the ground looking for me. All you have to do is threaten me and he’ll cave. So let your family go. Please.” 

Moira has never had a lot of nice things to say about Felicity over the years. But in the last few months, she’s been working hard to get past all of her own insecurities and issues and really see Felicity as she truly is. Some days, it’s easier to accept her as Oliver’s girlfriend than others. 

But today? Today, Moira understands. Felicity Smoak is a lot stronger of a person than Moira has ever given her credit for. 

She takes back everything she ever said about Felicity being selfish. Despite everything that Moira has done to her over the years, Felicity is standing in front of what has to be the most terrifying man in the world and is arguing not for her own freedom, but Moira’s. She could just as easily throw Moira under the bus and talk Malcolm into keeping Moira as leverage instead. After all, Oliver would also do anything to protect his mother. But she doesn't do that. 

Instead, she sacrifices herself. 

And Moira doesn’t deserve any of it. 

“Interesting choice,” Malcolm says. “Not bargaining for your own freedom. I always knew you were a fighter, it’s why I hired you. That fire, when directed in the right direction is gold. It’s a shame you aligned yourself with the Queens. We could have done amazing things together.” 

“We still can,” Felicity says. “Just let them go.” 

Malcolm goes over to Thea and unlocks the handcuffs. Thea immediately pulls her wrists away and practically growls at him, “You’re not my father.” 

Malcolm, thankfully, doesn’t slap her like Moira expects. Instead he ignores her comment and moves over to undo the chains around Tommy. 

“You can have me,” Tommy says. “Don’t take Felicity. Please. Take me! I’m the one that turned you in! I’m the one that ruined everything! Take me. Let them go!” 

“Quiet,” Malcolm says, leaving no room for discussion as he moves over to Moira. 

Tommy rushes to Felicity’s side to try and get her down while Malcolm undoes her chains. 

“Don’t think this is over,” Malcolm whispers into her ear. “You kept my daughter from me for eighteen years. Your son took everything from me and you let it happen. You knew he was the Hood when I was accusing him and you lied right to my face.” 

Malcolm squeezes her injured wrist tightly causing her to wince as he finishes undoing her chains. “There isn’t a place on Earth you could go that I wouldn’t find you and kill you.” 

Moira looks up into his eyes and knows the threat is real. He has every intention of killing her. 

“Why wait?” she asks, trying to figure out why he’d let her go only to kill her later. 

“I’m not cruel enough to kill you in front of our daughter,” he says quietly, before turning to address the room. “Let’s go.” 

Malcolm stalks over to shove Tommy away from Felicity before moving towards the door where there is a pile of various items on the floor. He throws black fabric bags at the three of them. 

“Put them on,” he says. “You won’t be running to the authorities to tell them Ms. Smoak’s location once you’re found.” 

“I’m not leaving her,” Tommy says. 

“Go, Tommy,” Felicity says, cooly. “Just leave.” 

“We aren’t going anywhere without you,” Moira says and Thea digs her nails into Moira’s arm at her words. When she looks down, Thea’s eyes are pleading with her to leave. Thea can’t stay here. 

“Your children need you,” Felicity says, giving her a brave smile. “Go. Please.” 

“Take me instead,” Tommy says, pulling at Felicity’s chains again but they don’t budge. 

Malcolm stalks over to him and punches him squarely in the face hard enough that he passes out. Thea squeaks and immediately pulls on the bag. Malcolm bends down to put the black bag over Tommy’s head. 

“Do I need to do the same for you, or are you going to obey?” Malcolm asks. 

Moira looks back at Felicity, hating that she can’t do more. If she could, she would sacrifice herself, but she can’t leave Thea.

In the end, Moira puts on the bag and allows Malcolm to lead them out of the hell they’ve been trapped in for the last several days. 

****

The steady beeping of the machines helps Moira relax as she sits between Oliver and Felicity’s hospital beds and waits for either of them to wake up. She can’t help but smile at the fact that their heartbeats are in sync with one another. If the events of the past few days hadn’t been enough to prove that Felicity is the one for Oliver, their hearts beating together as one would do it. 

Oliver had stumbled into the hospital yesterday looking awful, but he’d refused any treatment until he could see Felicity. Unfortunately, when he’d been told that his girlfriend was still in emergency surgery for internal bleeding, he’d had to be sedated in order to be treated. Oliver’s being kept under by the doctors to allow his body time to heal. The doctors had made that call last night after he woke up for the third time and torn his stitches while getting out of bed intent on checking on everyone. Moira had agreed it was for the best to keep him under. She’d also convinced the doctors to put Felicity with Oliver once she’d been moved out of recovery and into a room. She can’t imagine Felicity won’t react the same way as Oliver once she wakes up for real.

Felicity has been up a few times, but never for more than a minute or two. Each time she’s been so out of it that she hasn’t remembered waking up before. It’s best for everyone involved that they be able to immediately see each other when they come to. Plus, it allows Moira to keep an eye on both of them. 

Oliver and Felicity have come out of this entire ordeal with Malcolm the worst. 

Thea was released from the hospital a few hours after they were admitted. Her tests all came back and the doctors determined her injuries were superficial. They gave her an IV of fluids to help with the dehydration and sent her on her way. Moira had three fractured ribs and required some pain medication, but she had been released not long after Thea. 

As for Tommy, he’s going to require surgery on his shoulder, but all of his internal bleeding is supposed to heal on its own. Thea has setup camp in his room. While Moira needs her family close by at a time like this, she recognizes that Thea needs space to work through the revelation that Malcolm is her father. 

Thea claims that she understands why Moira kept it a secret now that she knows what kind of a monster Malcolm truly is, but Thea still hasn’t been able to look her in the eyes. Neither has Tommy. Moira thinks that the emotional wounds of Malcolm are going to take all of them much longer to heal from than the physical ones. 

Moira’s phone goes off and she checks her messages to see that the Queen jet has landed safely back in Starling City. Donna Smoak will be here in 20 minutes. 

Felicity grumbles and Moira looks up from the text she’d been about to send Donna. 

“Oliver?” she whispers and Moira reaches out to grab her hand. 

“He’s here,” she reassures her like she has each and every time she’s woken up before. “He’s okay.” 

Felicity blinks open her eyes and looks around the room in confusion, which again, is nothing new. 

“You’re in the hospital,” Moira says, and by now, she may as well read the lines from a script because it’s the same every time. “Oliver and Mr. Diggle found you and brought you here. You had surgery, but you’re going to be okay.” 

Felicity blinks several times before turning to look at her. 

“Mrs. Queen?” she asks. 

“Please, call me Moira,” she says with a kind smile. 

“What?” Felicity moves to sit up but immediately winces and Moira reaches for the bed remote to raise her up so that she can see better without straining her healing body. 

“What are you doing here?” Felicity asks before her eyes trail behind Moira and land on Oliver. She gasps. 

“Oliver?” she asks as she moves to get out of bed put Moira places a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. 

“He’s okay,” she assures her. “He’s just resting. His body needs time to heal.” 

Right about now is the time that Felicity’s eyes usually start getting heavy again and she falls back asleep, but rather than nodding off, Felicity appears to be getting more alert. 

“What happened?” Felicity asks. 

“You saved us,” Moira says, earning her a confused look from Felicity. “We were being held by Malcolm and you convinced him to let us go.” 

“I remember,” she says, still giving her a confused look and Moira can’t say she blames the girl. 

She settles back into her bed. 

“I owe you an apology,” Moira says. 

Felicity doesn’t ask for what like most people would. Felicity, more than most, knows how long Moira’s list of sins reads. 

“I’ve never been very kind towards you,” Moira says carefully. While she knows that an apology is the least she can give the girl that saved their life, it was much easier to apologize to Felicity when she’d been sleeping. 

Felicity doesn’t say anything, but she listens intently. 

Moira coughs and brushes invisible lint off of her skirt. 

“I don’t think it’s any secret that Robert and my marriage had its issues,” Moira admits. “And for the longest time, it was easier to direct my feelings of anger and hurt at you. But that wasn’t fair. You were just a kid and I never gave you a chance.” 

“You were jealous,” Felicity says quietly. “You thought I was stealing Oliver from you.” 

“I thought a lot of things that weren’t true, and in the end I hurt myself more than anyone else,” she admits with a sad smile. “I know that I can’t take back anything that I’ve said or done in the past, but for what it’s worth, I wish I could.” 

Felicity doesn’t say anything immediately. The two of them sit in awkward silence for several minutes. Moira studies her fingernails to avoid having to make eye contact. They are torn to shreds from her attempts to claw her way out of the chains. She’s never looked less put together in her life. If her friends could see her now, they wouldn't recognize her. 

But maybe that’s okay. Life isn’t all about appearances, despite what her mother had always said growing up. The past five years has taught her a lot. There are more important things. Like protecting your family, or standing up for what you believe in no matter the cost. 

“I always tried not to let your words get to me,” Felicity says, finally, after what feels like hours of silence, but can’t have been that long. After all, Donna isn’t here yet. “When we were kids, Oliver would tell me to ignore them. After the Gambit, Tommy used to try and convince me that you were wrong. It never worked. Not really. Because a part of me believed everything you said. I didn’t feel like I deserved Oliver, so I never told him how I felt.” 

Moira squeezes Felicity’s hand as tears fill her eyes. 

“I know this is going to sound strange coming out of my mouth, but I can’t imagine anyone better suited for Oliver than you,” she says, truly meaning it. 

“Not even Laurel?” Felicity gives her a doubtful look. 

Moria shakes her head. “Laurel is a good girl, but she’s not the one that sacrificed herself for a woman who’s never shown her an ounce of kindness.” 

“I didn’t do it for you,” Felicity says. 

“Regardless, you still did it and you were far braver than I’ve ever been. Oliver didn’t get the strength to survive the island and become a hero from Robert or I,” Moira says. “He got that from you.” 

Felicity shakes her head, but Moira nods. She reaches out to brush the hair out of Felicity’s face. 

“You’re the reason he came home,” she says. “You’re his home.” 

Felicity bites her lip as her eyes fill with tears. She opens her mouth to say something, but they are interrupted by Donna rushing through the door in a hurricane of emotions. 

It’s probably for the best. Moira and Felicity have a lot of feelings to work through in regards to each other and it’s not going to magically resolve itself in a single conversation, but it’s a start. 

It’s a very good start. 

****

The entire family is gathered in the living room celebrating both Oliver and Felicity’s release from the hospital and the judge’s decision to hold Malcolm without bail until his trial. The staff has set up a lovely breakfast buffet full of everyone’s favorite foods and they’ve all settled into various conversations across the room. Moira is standing by the window looking out over the grounds. She is so incredibly happy to have her children home from the hospital, but even in her joy, she can’t help but yearn for Walter. The authorities haven’t been able to find him anywhere, and with Malcolm in custody, Moira is sure that whoever had been holding Walter, has already killed him. 

Yet another husband gone because of Malcolm Merlyn. It’s not fair, but Moira does her best to focus on the positives and count her blessings. The Undertaking has been stopped. Her children are safe. Nobody will suffer permanent damage from what Malcolm put them through over the last few days. It could have been far worse. 

“I’ve always loved the view of the grounds from here,” Felicity says, walking up to her and holding out a cup of tea. 

Moira takes it with quiet thank you. 

“This was Walter’s favorite spot as well,” she says sadly. “I prefer the view from the kitchen.” 

“They could still find him,” Felicity says. “I haven’t stopped looking.” 

Moira nods her head. It’s true. They haven’t found a body yet, and until the do, anything is possible. After all, Oliver had come home to them after five years of believing that he was dead. 

Felicity raises her coffee mug to her lips and the light from the window bounces off of her hand and Moira gasps, reaching out to grab her hand and stare at the ring on her finger. Moira knows the ring well, she’d grown up seeing it on her grandmother’s hand. 

“You and Oliver?” she asks with a smile. 

Felicity nods her head. “He asked me at the hospital a few days ago. We stopped by Starling National on the way home because he was adamant that I have this ring. I hope that’s okay?” 

Felicity bites her lip nervously and Moira waves her concern off. 

“I told Oliver long ago that ring would be his to give to whoever he felt was worthy,” she says. 

Felicity nods and studies her shoes and Moira realizes that Felicity probably needs more from her. 

“I’m glad,” she says, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Felicity’s shoulder. “You’re good for my son.” 

Felicity smiles at that and her eyes roam across the room to catch Oliver’s. The two of them stare at each other like a bunch of lovesick puppies. It’s adorable. Moira hasn’t had that feeling in a long time, but she remembers it feeling warm and safe. She’s glad the two of them have each other after the hell they’ve all just been through. 

Oliver starts walking over to them, eyes firmly glued to Felicity’s and Moira knows that look well enough to know that he isn’t coming over here to talk to her. She excuses herself and goes to sit over by Tommy and Thea, who are currently comparing baby books with each other. Thea’s had a million questions about the Merlyn family and Tommy’s been all too happy to provide her with answers. 

****

“The prosecution calls Moira Queen to the stand,” the district attorney says and Moria can feels all eyes in the courtroom fall to her. Thea squeezes her hand while Oliver whispers words of encouragement into her ear and Felicity gives her an encouraging smile. 

Moira stands up on shaky legs and makes her way to the front of the courtroom. She can feel Malcolm’s gaze on her but she purposely avoids looking his way as she takes the stand. 

“Please raise your right hand,” the bailiff instructs her and she does as asked. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” 

“I do,” she says and takes a seat. 

“Please state your name for the court,” the DA asks her. 

“Moira Queen,” she says. 

“What is your relationship to Malcolm Merlyn?” he asks. 

“I have known Malcolm for about thirty years,” she says. “I was best friends with his wife growing up and when he married her, our husbands became friends.” 

“Have you always considered Malcolm to be a friend?” he asks. 

Moira shakes her head. 

“Almost six years ago, by husband came to me,” she says, feeling her hands start to shake. 

She hadn’t wanted to relive any of this, especially on public record, but she’d wanted Malcolm to go free even less so she’d agreed to testify. She can feel Malcolm watching her and it scares her. Even with a courtroom full of people, she doesn't trust him not to try anything. It was only Oliver’s reassurance this morning that he wouldn’t let Malcolm lay a finger on her that had gotten her out of the house. 

She looks out into the crowd and sees her family. She’s so glad that Thea was released from rehab last week and is able to be here with her. Seeing her more happy and whole than she’s been in years gives Moira the strength to keep going. If Thea can work past her fears and find peace, then so can she. 

Felicity sends her a thumbs up and Oliver nods his encouragement. 

“He told me that Malcolm was planning on destroying the Glades. I was horrified and Robert promised me that he was working on something to make sure that Malcolm wouldn’t succeed in doing it. A few weeks later, the Gambit went down.” 

“Your speaking of the Queen’s Gambit,” the DA says, before turning to the jury. “For those of you who never saw the news, The Queen family yacht was caught in a storm several years ago and everyone on the boat died. At least, we believed they all died, until Oliver Queen was found on a deserted island back in October.”

Moira shakes her head. “It wasn’t a storm that took down the boat,” she says. “I hired private investigators and they were able to find and salvage the yacht. It had been sabotaged. I knew that Malcolm had found out about Robert’s plan to stop him.” 

“And how do you know it was Malcolm who sabotage the boat?” the DA asks. 

“I didn’t know for sure at the time,” she says. “But I had a strong feeling, so I confronted him. I was so angry that I wanted to kill him for taking my husband and son away from me. When I met with him, he admitted to killing my family. He then proceeded to beat me and choke me. That’s the night he threatened to kill my daughter, Thea, if I didn’t help him.” 

“I should have killed you that night!” Malcolm screams as he stands up and slams his hands on the table in front of him before pushing it out of the way entirely and storming up to the stand where he immediately places his hands around her neck so tight that she can barely breathe.

“I made you a promise,” Malcolm whispers into her ear as the judge bangs on his gavel and several guards try to pull Malcolm off of her. “You are going to die.”

It’s not until Oliver rushes to her side and grabs Malcolm that he loses his grip on her neck and she’s left gasping for air. 

“There isn’t a jail in the world that can hold me!” Malcolm yells as Oliver struggles to pull him away. “I’m going to kill you just like I killed Walter! I’m going to kill you!” 

“Order!” the judge yells over several gasps. Cameras are flashing left and right. The entire courtroom is in an uproar as Malcolm continues to scream threats at her, demanding she stay silent, reminding her of the depths of his influence. 

It takes several more guards to restrain Malcolm and eventually somebody brings in a sedative to knock him out. Oliver checks to make sure that she’s okay before ordering Felicity and Thea to stay with her until a medic can check her out. 

“Where’s he going?” Moira asks her voice raspy. It hurts to swallow. 

“To call in a favor,” Felicity says quietly, looking around the room to make sure that nobody is listening in. “He’s going to make sure Malcolm is brought somewhere where he can’t ever escape.” 

Felicity rubs soothing circles into her back while Thea holds her hand in both of hers. 

“Where is that?” Thea asks. 

“The less you know the better,” Felicity says. “Just know that, where he’s going, Malcolm won’t be able to hurt either of you ever again.” 

****

The quartet starts to play as everyone stands and turns to wait for the bride. Moira doesn’t look back however, instead she watches her son. She wants to see his face when he sees Felicity for the first time. Moira had checked in on Felicity a few moments ago and she’d looked absolutely stunning in her gown, she just knows that Oliver is going to be breathless. 

The doors open up and the look on Oliver’s face doesn’t disappoint. He’s a mess of emotions. Wonder. Hope. Awe. Shock. Pride. Glee. 

But most of all, he’s content. Her son looks 100% at peace and that’s something that all of the money in the world has never been able to buy him. That’s something only Felicity has been able to give him. It had taken them 22 years to the day, but they’ve finally found their way to each other permanently, and Oliver no longer looks like he’s searching for something beyond his reach. 

This is his happily ever after. 

Moira glances back at Felicity, who is being walked down the aisle by Tommy and Donna. The smile she’s wearing and the look of wonder and awe on her face makes Moira smile. 

It’s crazy what a few months has done to Moira’s perspective on things, but there isn’t anyone else that she could picture Oliver marrying but Felicity. Nobody else knows how to take all of his anger, trauma, and fear and help him feel at ease. 

In fact, Moira knows that one of the main reasons that she currently has as strong of a relationship with Oliver as she does, is because Felicity has taught him to be more open and honest about what he went through during his time away. Oliver has told her as much during one of their weekly mother-son date nights. 

“They look so happy,” Thea leans over to whisper into her ear and Moira nods her agreement. 

She glances around the rose garden that Robert had build for their tenth anniversary. She’s glad that they decided to have their wedding here at the mansion, just as she’s glad that Felicity and Oliver finally agreed to more than a wedding at the justice of the peace. Donna really did do a wonderful job with the ceremony. Moira had half expected there to be pink glitter and gaudy flower arches everywhere, but she’d been pleasantly surprised. 

There are a lot of things about Donna that Moira had been mistaken about. 

Now that the woman has moved to Starling City, they’ve been seeing each other fairly often. Moira has struck up an unlikely friendship with the woman. Donna is much better entertainment and she’s also much more understanding about the entire Malcolm situation than Moira’s other friends. The two of them actually have a bet going on how long it will take Felicity to get pregnant now that they’ve tied the knot. 

Donna is adamant that Felicity will make Oliver wait at least a year, but Moira doesn’t think they’ll last that long. Felicity might talk a big game of wanting to keep her job and name and how she refuses to allow this wedding to turn her into a stereotypical baby-making, dinner-cooking housewife, but Moira knows better. She’s seen the look that Felicity gets whenever Oliver is around kids, and vice versa. Those two aren’t going to wait long to become parents. 

The ceremony is short and sweet, but the vows they write for each other leaves nearly everyone in tears. Afterwards, once photographs have been taken, Oliver and Felicity have shared their first dance, and toasts have been made. After dinner had been served and the cake had been cut, Moira’s favorite part of the evening arrives. Her dance with Oliver. 

Oliver’s been rather tight lipped about what he had planned for this, and she’s been content to let him have his secrecy, if only because he just looked so bashful whenever she tried to ask him about it. 

She smiles as Oliver leads her out into the middle of the dance floor and the quartet begins to play a familiar melody. She can’t help but gasp in surprise as Tommy takes the microphone and starts to sing the words for them. 

“I sang this song to you the first time I held you in my arms,” she says, tears falling against her will as she remembers holding him that first time. She’d been so exhausted from the long labor, but the moment he’d been placed in her arms, all of that had gone away. All of the stress of pregnancy and the pain of labour had been worth it, because she’d been given this tiny little life-changing miracle. 

“I know,” Oliver says, kissing her cheek. 

Moira looks up at him with a questioning look and he smiles down at her. “Grandma told me that you sang it to me every night before I fell asleep that first year.” 

She nods her head, smiling at the memory. 

“But more I cannot wish you than to wish you find your love,” she sings quietly into his ear just like she used to when he was a baby. “Your own true love this day.” 

Oliver squeezes her hand in appreciation as he continues to lead her around the dance floor. 

“Your father would have loved this wedding,” she says to him, feeling a deep pang that Robert couldn’t be here to see this moment.

“He told me that I’d end up here one day,” Oliver says, his voice heavy with nostalgia. “I didn’t ever believe him.” 

“Nor did I,” Moira confesses. “But he was always able to see it.” 

“I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of her,” he confesses. “I’m still not sure I am, but she makes me want to be a better man.” 

Moira smiles. “You make her a better person, too. That’s what love is.” 

“Thank you,” Oliver says. 

“For what?” she asks. 

“For learning to accept her,” he says. 

She nods her head. Looking back now, she’s embarrassed that it’s taken her this long to come around. It makes her ashamed to think of how she’d tried to pull Oliver away from the person he’s meant to be with. But what’s done is done and they’ve all agreed to focus on the things they can change now, rather than dwell on the things they can’t take back. 

“I only ever wanted you to be happy,” she says. 

“I know,” he says. “She makes me happy.” 

“I can see that, now,” Moira says. 

Oliver spins her around before pulling her back in and singing into her ear, causing her to laugh in surprise. Oliver  _ does not _ sing, even though he has a lovely voice. 

“Music I can wish you, merry music while you’re young,” he sings. “And wisdom when your hair has turned to gray.” 

“But more I cannot wish you than to wish you find your love,” they finish up the song together. “Your own true love this day. With a sheep’s eye, and a lickerish tooth, and the strong arms to carry you away.” 

“I love you,” Oliver says, pulling her in for a hug as the crowd applauds. 

“I love you, too. So much,” she says, kissing him on the cheek before returning him to his wife. 

She can only hope that the two of them are able to hold onto the happiness they’ve found in each other much longer than she was able to hold onto hers. 

****

“Can you pick up some soup while you’re there?” Oliver asks her over the phone as she walks into the restaurant to pick up their lunch order. “Felicity isn’t feeling very well, I’m not sure she’ll eat much.” 

“Again?” Moira asks, concerned as she whispers to the hostess that she’s going to need a cup of chicken noodle soup to be added to her order. 

Felicity had been sick a few days last week, and the week before. It’s starting to become a pattern and there’s a bubbling of excitement in her chest as she can guess what it probably is. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Oliver says. “I’ve told her to go to the doctor, but she refuses to take the time off of work to get checked out.” 

“Does she have any other symptoms?” Moira asks, handing over her credit card once the hostess returns with her order. 

“Other than the nausea? She’s a little tired, I guess,” he says. “Why? What do you think is wrong with her?” 

“I don’t know Sweetheart,” she says, even though she’s got a suspicion. “I’ve just picked up the food, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

Oliver hangs up the phone and Moira signs for the food and hurries out the the car, anxious to lay eyes on Felicity herself and see if she doesn’t notice a bit of that pregnancy glow in her. 

Rob drives her over to the quaint townhouse where Oliver and Felicity live. Moira had tried to convince them to buy a new home once they got married, but Felicity hadn’t wanted to leave her home and Oliver hadn’t really cared where they lived so long as they were together. It’s funny, because Oliver used to complain if he ever had to sleep anywhere that wasn’t either his own bed at the manor or a penthouse. Apparently, after one lives on a deserted island for several years, they become much less picky about where they sleep at night. 

When she arrives, Oliver is already outside to help her out of the car and carry the bags in for her. Moira steps into their home and frowns when she sees Felicity curled up on the couch covered in several blankets. She moves to stand up and greet her, but Moira waves her off, and urges her to rest. 

“Mom brought you over some soup,” Oliver says encouragingly. 

Moira wonders if he’s been trying to get her to eat all day. 

“I’m not hungry,” she says, laying her head back down on the couch. 

“You should try to eat something, even if it’s just a few bites,” Moira says, thinking of the baby she probably has growing inside of her. 

Felicity sits up on the couch and Moira comes over to feel her forehead for a temperature. 

“You don’t feel warm,” she says. 

“She doesn’t have a fever, I checked,” Oliver says, bringing a bowl of soup over to her. 

“Interesting, I didn’t realize the Queens all went to medical school,” she says, probably intending to sound snarky, but it has far less bite than it usually would. She looks worn down.

“We’re just worried about you,” Oliver says, kissing the top of her forehead before handing her the soup with orders to eat. He then heads to the kitchen to get their lunch setup. 

“I guess I should call Tommy and Laurel and tell them they need to find somebody to take our seats tonight,” Oliver says. 

“We can’t!” Felicity says, sounding distressed. “Tommy’s already freaking out about barely filling the tables. You’re going to have to go without me.” 

“No,” Oliver says, rolling his eyes and he sets Moira’s plate down in front of her quickly followed by his own. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” 

“I can take care of myself,” she argues, causing Oliver to send Moira an exasperated look. “Do you want to take our seats at Tommy and Laurel’s thing?” 

“I think I’m a little old to be dressing up in a costume, even if it is for charity,” Moira says with a laugh. “But why don’t you take Thea. I can stay here with Felicity.” 

“You can?” Oliver asks, surprised. 

“Yes,” she says, slightly offended that he looks so shocked at the offer. “I am well overdue for a night in.” 

“Is, uh, that okay with you?” Oliver asks. 

Felicity and he seem to have a silent conversation before Felicity smiles and says, “Yeah, it could be fun. I’m sure your mom will watch that Hallmark movie with me without complaining the entire way through.” 

Moira nods. Felicity can count on it. She can also count on Moira convincing her to take a pregnancy test. But Oliver doesn’t need to know that last part. Not yet, anyways. Felicity can tell him after she knows for sure that she’s pregnant. They can find some cute way to break the news to him. After all, Donna’s already shared a Pinterest page full of ideas since they’ve both been waiting on this announcement since Felicity started getting sick. 

“I don’t complain,” Oliver says, causing Felicity to scoff. “Just eat your soup.” 

Felicity laughs and tentatively takes a few bites of her soup while they settle into comfortable conversation about how Thea’s doing in her college classes and how Oliver doesn’t like her boyfriend, Roy. 

When they are finished with their meals, Felicity admits that the soup had made her feel a bit better, even though she’s still tired. Moira heads home with a promise to be back later that evening to spend some time with Felicity while Oliver and Thea go to Tommy’s charity event. 

****

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Felicity says as she sits on her bed and stares at the timer on her phone. 

“You’ll feel better once you know,” Moira tells her with a smile. 

“This is some kind of payback for me telling everyone you were pregnant with Thea, isn’t it?” she asks, causing Moira to laugh. 

“I’ll admit, that wasn’t one of your finer moments,” Moira says. “I hadn’t been planning on telling Robert or Oliver yet. I had only just found out myself. But that’s not why I bought you a test to take now.” 

“I don’t even know why I’m taking this,” Felicity says. “I’m not pregnant.” 

Moira doesn’t voice the fact that if she were so positive about that fact, she indeed wouldn’t be taking the test. A part of her must know. 

“And in another minute, you’ll know for certain,” she says. 

Felicity tosses the phone on the bed and throws herself back on the mattress dramatically. 

“We aren’t ready to have a baby,” she says. 

“Sweetheart, nobody is ever ready to have a baby,” Moira says. “Robert nearly cried in fear when I first told him I was pregnant with Oliver. It’s scary bringing another person into this world, but Oliver and you are going to be amazing parents.” 

Felicity grabs her phone to check the timer and then smacks her hand down on the mattress. Moira understands, time isn’t moving fast enough for her either. She’s anxious to know if she’s about to be a grandmother for the first time. 

“I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this,” she says. “I’m not pregnant.” 

Right. That’s what Moira had thought when she’d been pregnant with Thea. 

Felicity’s phone goes off and Moira can’t help but chuckle at the look of utter fear that comes across Felicity’s face. She doesn’t move. 

“Maybe we should wait another few minutes, just to make sure the test has time to process,” she says, fiddling with something on her phone. 

Moira doesn’t tell her that the test doesn’t need a few more minutes. Instead, she gives her the time and space to do this on her own terms. As anxious as she is to know the results, this moment is more about Felicity and Oliver than it is about her. 

“I’m scared to look,” Felicity whispers after a few moments of silence. 

“No matter what the test says, you’re going to be okay,” she reassures her. 

“Oliver and I were with John the other day,” Felicity says. “He had his nephew over. AJ convinced Oliver to read him a book, and he did all of the character’s voices. It was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“He’s really good with kids,” Moira says. “Children have always gravitated towards him.” 

Felicity nods in agreement and Moira is shocked to see her eyes fill with tears. 

“What?” she asks, worried she’s upset her in some way. 

They’ve been growing closer over the last few months, but Moira still feels like she’s walking on eggshells around her sometimes in her effort to make up for all the years where she was nasty to her. 

“What if I’m not pregnant?” Felicity says. “It’s just that… I know it’s only been a few minutes, but I’ve already started thinking about it…” 

Moira smiles kindly and reaches out a hand to pat her knee sympathetically. 

“You won’t know until you look,” she says. 

Felicity bites her lip and looks over at her. “Will you look for me?” 

Moira shakes her head. “I would, but I really think this is something you’re going to want to do yourself.” 

Felicity closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath before she stands up and walks into the master bathroom. 

Moira doesn’t hear any shouts of joy or cries of sorrow like she expects. Felicity had always been a pretty vocal child, so Moira had expected to hear some kind of a reaction. When she doesn’t hear one, she sits back and decides to give her a moment.

Moira sits there for close to twenty minutes before Felicity steps out into the bedroom with the test in her hand. 

“Well?” she asks, unable to read Felicity’s expression. 

“Oliver said he wanted to wait at least a year,” Felicity says, all but confirming what Moira had thought all along. She’s pregnant. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?” 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Moira says, standing to pull her into a tight hug. “He’s going to be over the moon.” 

****

“Let me guess, another baby gift?” Oliver asks with a teasing smile as Felicity unwraps another package from her. 

“You’re first time parents,” Moira says defensively. “And babies need a lot of stuff.” 

“They’re tiny, how can they need so much?” Thea asks, causing the rest of them to laugh. 

“You’d be surprised, Speedy,” Oliver says. 

Felicity pulls out the box and stares at it for a moment before looking at Moira confused. 

“It’s a nail file,” she explains. 

Felicity holds the box up to her face and studies it closely. “I thought you just used the baby clippers.” 

She hands the box to Oliver for him to examine while Thea looks over his shoulder. 

“This way, you don’t have to worry about clipping their delicate nails too close,” Moira says. 

She admits, it was an extravagance, but this is her first grandchild and she’s determined that they are only going to have the best. 

“I don’t know how all of this is going to fit in our house,” Oliver says, handing the box back to Felicity who piles it on top of their growing pile of gifts. 

“You could always move back in here,” Moira says, going for subtle, but if the look Thea and Oliver share is any indication she fails. 

“Mom, Felicity and I are happy where we are,” Oliver says. “We’ll make room. I’m sure Felicity can do without a second closet.” 

Felicity looks down at her stomach and pouts. “The things we do for love,” she says, causing them all to chuckle. 

“I’m just saying,” Moira says. “This place has more than enough rooms. The two of you could have your own wing of the house with round the clock staff. You’ll both be exhausted with a newborn. Don’t you think you’d like to be surrounded by people who can help you?” 

She’s angling hard, she knows. But the mansion really does feel much too big now that she’s living here by herself. Thea had moved out into her own apartment a month ago, wanting to be closer to classes and work. With her children all out of the house, it’s hard not to perseverate on Walter’s death. She’s lonely. 

“I think we’ll manage. Now, there have to be some non-baby related Christmas gifts in this pile, right?” Oliver says, changing the topic. 

Moira sighs and Felicity catches it. She stands up and moves to sit next to Moira. 

“I’m okay,” Moira says, before she can even ask. 

“I’m sure you are,” Felicity says kindly. 

She picks up her hand and places it on her stomach. 

“I told Oliver that the baby won’t be able to hear for another month or so, but he’s convinced our child can sense his presence,” Felicity says, smiling in Oliver’s direction as he and Thea exchange gifts. Neither of them are paying Felicity or Moira much attention. 

She looks back at Moira. 

“I know it’s silly, because science tells me it’s not true, but I kind of believe him,” Felicity says. “Last night, I had this weird fluttery feeling and when Oliver touched me and started talking to the baby, it stopped.” 

“Robert was convinced Oliver was going to be some kind of prodigy because he thought Oliver could hear him from day one,” Moira says with a fond smile. Felicity moves Moira’s hands over to the side of her belly. 

“It’s such a small thing that you likely won’t be able to feel it, but I’m pretty sure that the baby is moving right about there,” she says. 

Moira can’t feel it, it’s still early for anyone besides Felicity to be able to feel much of anything. However, just knowing on the other side of Felicity's belly is her grandchild makes her incredibly happy. 

“Oliver and I aren’t going to move back in here,” Felicity says. 

“I know,” she says, shaking her head. “You two are perfectly settled where you are. I just… I don’t know what I thought.” 

“You thought that this is a big house that feels even bigger now that Thea is out of it,” she says with a knowing look. 

“Yeah,” Moira says, no use hiding the fact. Felicity can see right through her. 

“I’ve been thinking about how we don’t really have a yard,” she says. “And on the weekends, Oliver and I are going to want to spend time outside with the baby… Maybe it’d be okay if we came to visit every Saturday or so?” 

Moira can’t help but smile at the offer. Felicity really is much kinder than Moira deserves. 

“I’d like that,” she says, patting Felicity’s belly before she leans down to whisper to her stomach. “Do you hear that? You get to spend the weekends at grandma’s house.” 

“Um, Honey, what did you just sign us up for?” Oliver asks with a laugh. 

“Nothing you wouldn’t have offered yourself if you’d been paying attention,” Felicity says, holding her hands out until Oliver helps her to her feet and pulls her into a hug. 

“Merry Christmas,” he says. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Felicity says. “Just don’t let my mom find out I celebrated Christmas with you. She’ll plan an intervention.” 

“Hey, we celebrated Hanukkah together,” Oliver argues before he kneels at Felicity’s feet. “Don’t let your Grandma Donna scare you,” he says. “You can celebrate all the Christmases you want, Son.” 

“You don’t know it’s a boy,” Felicity argues as Oliver stands back up. 

“In eight days that sonogram will confirm it and you’ll owe me fifty bucks,” he says. 

Moira sits back and watches as her three children bicker about the sex of the baby and continue to open gifts. 

She may not have a husband to crawl into bed with at night. Her children might be grown up and don’t need her anymore. But watching them all together, she feels like everything is going to be alright. 

****

 

“What is going on?” Thea asks, looking back and forth between Sara and Roy the moment Oliver steps out of the house with Mr. Wilson. 

Moira would like to know the same thing. Oliver has been acting strange ever since he stepped foot in the house, and it’s not like him to be so passive aggressive, he’s usually pretty upfront when he’s angry at somebody. There’d been no good reason for his behavior. 

“Oliver will explain later,” Sara says, tilting her head like she’s listening for something. “Come on, Digg, take the shot,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry, what?” Moira asks, her eyes going wide as she moves towards the front door to see what Sara is talking about, but Sara reaches her arm out to stop her. 

“Oliver is handling this,” she says when Moira looks at her like she’s crazy. 

“Handling what?” Thea asks. “Somebody tell me what is going on?” 

“That man isn’t who he says he is,” Sara informs her, still listening for something outside, but what, Moira isn’t sure. 

It makes Moira nervous. Even though she knows that Oliver is more than capable of taking care of himself, he’s still her son and she still remembers the pain of losing him. No amount of time back will ever make her forget that. 

“He said his name was Slade Wilson,” Moira says.

“Okay, well that part is true,” Sara says. “But he’s not your friend. He’s here to hurt Oliver and he’ll kill everyone he loves to do it.” 

“Then what are you doing standing here?” Thea asks, pushing Roy towards the door at the same time that Moira says, “Where is Felicity?” 

If this man is really as determined to hurt Oliver as Sara says he is, the most logical target would be Felicity and the baby. 

“Stay with them,” Sara tells Roy. “I’ll go see what’s taking Digg so long.” 

Sara moves towards the door, but Oliver steps back inside before she reaches it. 

“He had somebody. They took out Digg,” Oliver says to Sara, his deep voice and focused look tells Moira that he’s not her Oliver right now, he’s The Arrow. 

“I’ll go check on him,” Sara says. “Your family needs you.” 

Oliver grabs her wrist before she can leave. “Felicity’s at the bunker?” 

Even with the deep voice and intense focus, she can still hear Oliver’s fear coming through. Oliver won’t feel settled until Felicity is safely back in his arms. To be honest, Moira won’t either. She worries about her grandson enough on a normal day, Felicity hasn’t had the smoothest of pregnancies… 

“She’s safe,” Sara assures him before he lets go and she leaves to go check on Mr. Diggle. 

“Oliver,” Moira says to get his attention. “What is going on? Who was that?” 

“Somebody I knew from the island,” Oliver says, dialing a number on his phone that she assumes is Felicity. 

“Well what does he want?” Thea asks. 

“To get even for something he thinks I did,” Oliver says. 

“What does he think you did?” Moira asks. 

“Killed the woman he loves,” he says quickly before directing his attention to the phone. Felicity must have picked up. 

“Where are you?” Oliver asks. “No, don’t come here. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you… Please, just stay there, it’s safer. I’ll be there soon… I love you.” 

Oliver hangs up the phone and looks at Roy. His careful mask is starting to slip and she can see the panic starting to set in. 

“You think he’s going to target Felicity?” Roy asks. 

“He’ll kill everyone I love if he gets a chance,” Oliver tells him, his eyes darting around the room as if he’s expecting an attack, even though he’s just seen Slade off. “I can’t imagine he doesn’t know about Felicity and the baby yet...” 

Moira reaches out to place a comforting hand on his arm and it startles him at first. She’s reminded of how he was when he first got back from the island. Most of his PTSD symptoms have faded with time, but clearly the return of an old enemy of his is bringing up some trauma. 

“Sorry,” he whispers to her, with an embarrassed smile. She shakes her head and places her hand back on his arm as if the entire exchanged hadn’t happened. 

“We’ll protect them,” Roy says. “He’s not the only one with Mirakuru in his system.” 

“Wait, what?” Thea asks, her eye going wide. “That guy has Mirakuru in him? The same Mirakuru you got shot with? The one that makes you all ragey and super strong?” 

Roy nods. 

“How are you supposed to fight him?” Thea asks, looking at Oliver in fear. 

“I’ve beaten him before, I’ll do it again,” he says. “Roy, help them pack. You’re taking them all away. Tonight.” 

Moira holds up her hands in protest. “Wait just a minute.” 

“No,” Oliver says. “You’re leaving. I can’t fight him  _ and _ worry about all of you. Go pack. Felicity is going to go with you.” 

“I’d like to see you tell her that,” Thea says, crossing her arms. 

“Thea!” Oliver snaps at her. “This is not a debate. Packing. Now.” 

Thea throws her arms out in frustration and stomps out of the room, swearing about overprotective brothers the entire way out. Roy follows after with a promise to protect Thea. 

“Oliver, I know that you’re scared,” Moira tries to tell him, but he cuts her off. 

“I have to go get Felicity,” he says. “Please be packed and ready to go by the time we get back.” 

Moira shakes her head, but Oliver is already out the door. 

She sighs. 

Like hell she’s going to leave her son to deal with this all on his own. She can’t imagine a world where Felicity would agree to this plan either. If they stick together, they can overcome anything. Isn’t that what they learned from the ordeal with Malcolm? 

****

Moira sits in her bedroom watching a movie, actively  _ not _ packing like she was instructed to do, when Felicity walks in. 

“I see you’ve made good progress on the packing front,” Felicity says with a laugh, coming to sit down on the bed next to her. 

“Don’t tell me you agree with Oliver,” Moira says, sitting up in shock. Of all of them, she would have thought Felicity would be the one most offended at being told to leave. 

Felicity snorts. 

“No, I kindly reminded him that the last time we sent somebody away to keep them safe, it was Thea and she was the first one of us to get kidnapped,” she says. “If Slade is going to come for the baby, I’d rather not be the one having to protect him by myself.” 

She gestures down to her ever growing belly. “I’m not exactly in prime fighting shape,” she adds.  

 

That sounds more like the Felicity she knows. 

“How did Oliver take the news that we aren’t going anywhere?” Moira asks, handing the bowl of popcorn she’d been munching on over to her daughter-in-law, who takes it graciously. She knows how stubborn her children can be and how overprotective Oliver gets — he can’t have taken it well. 

“About as well as you’d expect,” she says. “But we’re here and not on a plane headed to the other side of the world, so clearly he saw reason.” 

“Good girl,” Moira says. 

Felicity lays back on the bed, clearly intent on joining Moira for the rest of the movie. 

“I did tell Oliver it’s probably a good idea that we all stay at the mansion though, until Slade is taken care of,” she says, moving around until she finds a comfortable position. Felicity’s been having alot of back pain recently. “He’s downstairs convincing Thea that it’s necessary.” 

“We can up the security,” she says, smiling at the idea of her children all being under one roof, even if it’s only temporary. 

They both settle into bed and watch the remaining half hour of Pretty Woman. As the credits roll across the screen, Felicity looks over at her. 

“Do you think we’ll ever know all of his secrets?” she asks nervously, as if she’s unsure if she should really being talking to Moira about Oliver. 

“He’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Moira says, sounding much more confident about that fact than she feels. Over the last few months, Oliver has been opening up to them more about what he went through on the island and how it led to him becoming The Arrow, but it still feels like there’s so much of the story they don’t know. 

Like this Slade Wilson. Oliver had never once mentioned his name before. 

“I’m nervous,” Felicity admits. “Oliver is always overprotective when it comes to us, that isn’t new. But he doesn’t typically get scared for himself, even when I sometimes wish he would. But this guy? Oliver seems genuinely terrified to fight him.” 

“He’ll figure it out,” she says, doing her best to reassure Felicity. “He has to. He’s got a little boy on the way who’s going to need his daddy.” 

“Yeah,” Felicity says with a deep sigh. Moira can’t blame her for not having her usual optimism. Moira isn’t feeling that optimistic tonight either. 

“Do you want to feel the baby kick?” she asks and Moira smiles. 

“Always.” 

Felicity takes her hand and places it against her stomach and Moira can’t help but smile at the kick that she feels. 

“Maybe he knows his father is a ninja,” Moira says with a smile. 

“For sure,” Felicity agrees. “But I’d appreciate it if he didn’t parkour all over my organs.” 

Oliver steps into the room looking exhausted as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Thea’s agreed to stay and Digg is getting more security put in place…” he explains before pausing to smile at the two of them. “What are you both doing?” 

“Discussing how your son is going to follow in your vigilante footsteps,” Felicity says. 

Oliver walks over to the bed and sits on the edge, placing his hand next to Moira’s. 

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing by staying?” Oliver asks. 

“We’re better together,” Felicity says, reaching out to put her hand on his cheek. Moira smiles when he nuzzles into her touch. 

“If I had known this would follow me home, I wouldn’t have come back,” he says quietly. 

Moira and Felicity both shake their heads. This isn’t Oliver’s fault. 

“Staying away wouldn’t have been a better option,” Felicity tells him. “We needed you home. None of us were doing well without you.” 

“I just can’t lose any of you,” he says. 

“You won’t,” Moira promises him. “You’ll find a way to stop Slade and we’ll get through this. Together.” 

****

When Thea’s cries first hit her ears, she knows what’s coming. She’s being pulled into the same dream she’s been having since the kidnapping last year. Her hands are bound behind her back and despite the fact that she knows she’s about to stumble into a nightmare, she can’t make it stop. Her eyelids feel like they are a thousand pounds. 

She takes a deep breath in, hoping the smell of chamomile from her diffuser will help her brain connect with reality, but the only thing she can smell is pinewood and… copper? 

Her head is pounding and her entire left side aches. Her dreams aren’t usually quite this vivid. 

“Mom,” Thea cries. 

Right about now, she usually opens her eyes to see Thea handcuffed to the radiator and Tommy chained to a pipe. Something is wrong, though. There’s grass beneath her and rocks digging into her stomach. Of all the times she’s dreamed about the kidnapping, she’s always dreamed about that basement. 

Her dreams aren’t usually this vivid, either. 

She has the sinking realization that this isn’t a dream. Wherever they are, this is real. 

She tries to open her eyes, but nothing happens. So instead, she tries to work through where they are by remembering the last place they had been. 

Tonight was her campaign event at Verdant. They’d been in the limo afterwards. Thea, Oliver and Felicity had been with her. 

Wait. 

No. 

That’s not right. 

Felicity had left early. She was tired and Oliver asked Mr. Diggle to take her home early. With only three weeks to go to her due date and Felicity stubbornly refusing to take her maternity leave a day sooner than she has to, she’d needed her rest. Moira understood as much. 

So Felicity had been with them in spirit, but not in person. 

They’d been in the limo on the way back to the house. 

That’s the last thing she can remember. 

“Mom,” Thea cries again. “Oliver.” 

Despite every fiber in her being protesting against it, Moira manages to push herself up onto her knees and pries her eyes open. 

It takes a moment for her vision to focus, but when it does she can see the nightmare they’ve found themselves in. Thea is bound, but otherwise doesn’t appear to be harmed. Oliver is bound and laying on the ground unmoving.

“Oliver?” she calls out to him, praying to God that he’s still alive. He remains unmoving. 

She glances around for help and that’s when she sees him — Slade Wilson. Her stomach drops down to her toes as her breath catches in her throat. If Slade is here, there’s no way in hell they are getting out of this alive. He’d vowed to make Oliver suffer for what happened to Shado and he means it. They’ve already lost Queen Consolidated along with nearly all of their wealth because of Slade and Moira knows that’s just the tip of the iceberg of what this man is capable of. 

Moira closes her eyes as she tries to think of a way out of this. She knows Oliver is still alive. Slade wouldn’t let him die yet. Not without making sure he’s really suffered. If anyone is going to be able to figure a way out of this, it’s Oliver. He needs to wake up. 

“Oliver?” she calls out and his eyes tighten like he’s fighting against having to wake up. 

“Oliver!” she says louder this time, needing him to sense the urgency of the situation. 

Moira’s vision swims and she knows that she likely has a concussion along with who knows what other injuries. None of them were wearing their seatbelts when the car hit them. 

Thea is sobbing and whatever she’s trying to say is incoherent. 

“Oliver,” Moira says again as he starts blinking his eyes open. 

He’s dazed and she’s sure that he has a concussion as well, but he’s going to have to power through it just like he powers through everything else. They need him to figure out an exit strategy. Felicity and the baby need him to figure a way out of this alive. 

He glances around, taking everything in. She expects him to assess the danger and immediately spring into action but he doesn’t. Thea continues to sob as Slade circles around them. The desperation is catching up with her. They are all about to die. 

“Oliver!” she cries out, her voice cracking as she does. It’s then that she realizes she’s been sobbing, too. 

“I was dead the last time you were offered this choice,” Slade says. 

Moira gasps realizing what’s about to happen. Oliver had confided in her that he’d been forced to choose between Sara or Shado and when he’d tried to save Sara’s life, Shado had been killed. She knows the guilt Oliver’s carried around because of that. 

“Slade!” Oliver yells, tugging on his restraints but they don’t budge. 

“What’s happening?” Thea asks as Oliver makes it to his knees. 

“I often wonder how you looked when he pointed the gun at Shado and took her from me,” Slade says. 

Moira can see where this is going, but she’s powerless to stop it. Slade is going to make Oliver chose. 

“You psychopath!” Oliver yells. Moira’s only see him this angry once in her life — when Malcolm took them. “Shado… Shado wasn’t yours!” 

“No, she was yours,” Slade says. He isn’t yelling, but he’s far from together. He’s blinded by rage. “Until you chose another woman over her.” 

Moira shakes her head in protest even though he’s not looking at her. The Mirakuru has him so overcome with anger that he can’t see clearly. Oliver hadn’t chosen Sara over Shado, he’d chosen himself. He’d tried to die protecting them and Ivo killed Shado anyway. 

“That’s not what happened!” Oliver yells. He’s worked himself up into a fury of his own and it concerns Moira. Oliver is panicking. He doesn’t panic in a crisis, yet here they are. He doesn’t have a way out. He won’t be breaking out of his restraints and saving the day this time. 

“It is what happened!” Slade screams. “It is! She told me!” 

He points to the woods and they all look but see nothing. 

“What do you mean she? There’s nobody there!” Oliver says, growing increasingly frustrated. 

Slade’s hallucinating, Moira realizes. Just like Roy had been having hallucinations. The Mirakuru has messed with his mind so much that he can’t distinguish truth from fiction. 

“Shado,” Moira whispers as the realization of what he’s been seeing hits her. After all, how can one move past the death of a loved one when they won’t stop haunting you each night? “You’re seeing her.” 

“I thought I had known true despair until I met your son,” Slade tells her before turning back to Oliver. “I trusted you to make the right choice.” 

“Let me make the right choice now,” Oliver says and she shakes her head knowing what it is he’s about to offer. He’d told her that he’d intended to die so Sara and Shado could live and that choice had been taken from him. If he wants to make the right choice, he’s going to sacrifice himself. 

“Kill me,” Oliver says. 

“No!” Moira shouts at the same time Thea cries out. 

Oliver can’t die. He has a baby on the way. His son needs him.  And if he dies, who will be left to protect them? Who will save the city? 

No. Moira cannot — she will not lose her son again. 

“Chose me, please,” Oliver says. 

“No, don’t,” Moira objects. She tugs on her restraints, desperate to break free. She’ll stand in front of Slade to protect her children if she has to. 

“I am killing you, Oliver,” Slade says, pulling a gun out of his coat. Moira cries, this is really happening. “Only more slowly than you would like.” 

“Don’t,” Oliver says, his eyes filling with tears as Thea and her continue to protest. 

“Chose,” Slade says. 

Moira looks Oliver right in the eyes. 

“No,” she says, begging Oliver to listen to her. Slade points a gun at Thea and Moira’s heart sinks to her stomach. 

“No!” she cries out. 

“Don’t,” Oliver says. 

Slade ignores them both. 

“Chose,” he says again and Moira looks back at Oliver in despair. 

Her little boy won’t survive this. He already places the sins of the world on his shoulders. He’ll never stop blaming himself for choosing Thea over her. And really, it’s the only choice to make. Oliver has to see that. 

Thea is young. She’s only just now starting to live her life. She has college to finish and dreams to realize. She deserves a chance to grow up. She deserves to get married and have a family of her own. She’s too young to die. Oliver knows this. He’s going to have to tell Slade to kill her and the guilt of that is going to consume him just when he’d started to move on and feel happy again. 

“Chose,” Slade goads him, moving the gun back and forth between Moira and Thea. 

“Please,” Oliver whispers. She knows he’s saying it to Slade, but she feels it deep in her bones. She knows what she has to do. There was never a choice to make. 

Slade moves the gun until it’s pointed at Thea’s head. 

“I swear to god, I am going to kill you!” Oliver screams, his face turning red as he struggles with all his might to break free. 

“Chose!” Slade screams. The situation is out of control. Slade isn’t going to wait much longer. He’s coming unhinged. 

“No,” she says as an odd feeling of calm washes over her. It’s going to be alright. Everything will be okay. She stands up and Oliver watches her in horror as understanding sinks in. 

“Mom,” he says, silently begging her not to do this. 

“No!” Thea sobs. 

“Mom, what are you doing?” he asks. 

“There’s only one way this…” she swallows back a sob. “Night can end.”

There is so much she wants to say. There are so many things she wants to tell her children. There’s parenting advice she’d been planning on giving Oliver and Felicity once the baby was born. Things she wanted to tell Thea. Both of her children have come so far and she needs them to know how proud she is of the people they’ve become. She hopes they already know. 

This is going to be tough on both of them. She wants to remind them how important it is to lean on each other and stay together. To tell them that they can do anything so long as they have family… But all the words get stuck in her throat. 

There’s too much to say and never enough time. 

Maybe that’s what she wants to say. To cherish every moment together because time passes by so quickly. 

So quickly…

“We both know that, don’t we Mr. Wilson?” she says, turning to face the monster that’s been harassing her son and this entire city for months. 

Oliver and Thea call after her, begging her to stop, but she ignores them. They’ll forgive her for this, eventually. Felicity and Roy will look after them and when they become parents themselves, they’ll understand the sacrifice she’s making. There’s nothing a parent wouldn’t do — Nothing more a parent wishes for than the health and safety of their children. 

“Both of my children will live,” she says. 

It’s a statement, not a request. It’s the least he can do for stealing her life away from her. She’d had so much to live for…  In just three weeks she was going to become a grandmother for the first time. She’s never going to meet her grandchildren. She’s never going to see Thea is a wedding gown. Never going to see her graduate college… But her children? They have more to live for and she has it in her power to give them that chance to experience everything life still has to offer. 

“Mom! What are you doing?” Thea asks, choking around a sob. 

“Thea, I love you,” she tells her as the gun is raised to her chest. She’s out of time. He’s not going to give her the chance to say goodbye to either of them. “Close your eyes baby,” she says quickly, not wanting them to see this. 

“No!” Oliver screams and she closes her eyes but the shot doesn't come. 

The seconds drag on in agony and she just wishes he’d do it already. She may be sure of her decision but the longer he drags it on, the more terrified she grows. She’s had a lot of time to contemplate life after death — it would be hard not to think of it when she’s lost two husbands. She’s pretty sure she believes in heaven, but the longer she stands here, the more time she has to doubt. What if this is it? What if this is all there is? 

“You possess true courage,” Slade says and she opens her eyes to see him lowering the gun. 

A sliver of hope sets in amongst the confusion. What is he doing? Why isn’t he killing her? 

Is this what he wanted? For her to sacrifice herself? Maybe by standing up and showing courage, he’s been brought back to reality. Maybe he finally realizes that Oliver didn’t do anything more than step in front of a gun himself…

“I am truly sorry,” he says. 

“What?” she asks as he turns away from her. 

She’s about to tell him that it’s okay. That all can be forgiven if he’d just let them go, but he speaks first. 

“That you did not pass that on to your son,” he says. 

She doesn’t have time to process his words before the sword comes out of nowhere and goes right through her heart. 

It happens in a matter of moments. There’s agonizing pain, then flashes of images. She can see Thea walking down the aisle to a teared up Roy. She can see Felicity holding a baby as Oliver looks on, a toddler on his hips. 

Her children are happy. Her children are loved. That’s all she’s ever needed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


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